Childhood Friends

To My Dear Friends of Santa Comba

Today, as I gaze into the distant horizon, I feel transported back to the dusty, sunlit streets of Santa Comba. It seems like only yesterday we ran barefoot, feeling the asphalt’s heat sear the soles of our feet, and the unmistakable scent of catinga filling our noses. Life was simple, but filled with adventure.

Each day brought new discoveries, and we, with our young hearts and endless dreams, believed the world began and ended right there.

I remember those mornings, waking up early for school, with the sun barely risen and the crisp air truly waking us up. The walk to school was a celebration in itself. We’d leap over stones, race to see who’d arrive first, and sometimes stop at the little corner shop to buy a sweet treat, always served by Dona Maria, who knew all our names and smiled at us like a grandmother.

School, of course, was more than just a place to learn; it was a place to connect. It’s where we shared stories, where friendships blossomed, and, yes, even where first crushes emerged. Who doesn’t remember those end-of-year festivities, with the rehearsed dances and performances that made us so proud? I still hold in my memory the thrill of wearing my best outfit and stepping onto the stage, heart pounding, under the watchful eyes of our parents.

Afternoons were filled with endless games. We’d play soccer on the little field behind the club, climb trees in search of ripe mangoes, or simply sit by the river, skipping stones and imagining what the future held. There was a magic in every detail of those days. Even the sound of the church bell marking the hours seemed to set the rhythm of our childhood.

I can’t forget the city festivals, occasions that filled us with joy. The processions, the food stands, the music echoing through the night… All of it was a part of who we were. We were a close-knit community, where everyone knew each other and looked out for one another. We were happy, even without knowing it.

Today, as I recall all this, a deep nostalgia grips my chest. Santa Comba was our first home, the backdrop of our earliest adventures and discoveries. It’s where we learned the values of friendship, loyalty, and love for one another.

Life has taken us along different paths, but the memories of our childhood remain alive within me. When I close my eyes, I can still hear our laughter echoing through the streets, still feel the warmth of the sun on my face, and still see the sparkle in each of your eyes.

May these memories stay with us always, a precious treasure we hold in our hearts. And wherever we may be, may we always remember our beloved Santa Comba with warmth and gratitude.

With deep longing and affection,
João Elmiro da Rocha Chaves