Once...there was a man with the loveliest disposition. His blood was Moorish; a mix of Arab and black skins. He was proud, contemplative and compassionate. He wrote to her, "My love, my short trip to Africa is over. The time passes faster that never. I have nearly reached one hundred years and although that... I still see the life and the things with adolescent eyes, searching for adult experience. I find a gift for you, two days ago. The weather is starting to give us a clear message to take seriously a break. The rain season is coming sooner this year and I prepare to depart. The sky is peaceful and really beautiful in the day time, and suddenly is getting furious and tremendously violent in the evening. Then...the wind let us understand that the storm is close. We get rain almost every night, a continuous ticketing tap on the roof since get to sleep with this smooth sound in the hear. Waking up in the morning is always a new nice experience, the flood is all over, and young boys are already taking a swim on the pond; screaming and laughing with happiness." His gift was a bracelet with the distinct and delicate shapes found in the entry ways of his Moorish ancestry. It dangles, sweetly, upon his wife's happy wrist. Happy because he came home!