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Days ago, I talked with a woman from Moldova about our experience as migrants and how our cultures of origin could be an internal obstacle to integrating into the host society.

At the end of the conversation, she asked me if I had any plans for this long Easter weekend. Over the years and with my experience as a migrant, I told her that Easter has become more meaningful -days of personal reflection and stillness, an opportunity to ponder.

She then asked me what Easter meant to me, and I said it was only possible for me to explain using my own words and experience: “Imagine a seed that falls into the ground. What happens? It sinks deep to the ground. In the darkness and the cold, she remains there for a long time. If the seed could think, it could hardly understand why roots grow down, why the stem grows up in the opposite direction, up … “

Finally, I said, “The stem appears on the ground, looks for light and grows”. I stopped and smiled, saying, “That’s what Easter is to me. “We smiled in silence, each immersed in their own thoughts.

Photo: Sebastian Silva:







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