It occurs to me that this is like having a relative in intensive care. On his birthday, some family members come with caps and rattles wishing happy birthday, other relatives go through the path of the hospital as if they knew anything about the birthday or the patient. Others across the street, yelling at the patient as his death wish or less, want not restored.
I do not belong to any of these groups.
I've read enough on May 25, 1810. I know who are their heroes. Who has given birth to my country. I also believe that, if awakened, not identify with the family described.
What should we do? Do not know about you, but I festejaré minimally conmemoraré spartanly, pray and cry and hopefully exaggerated virility.
When the sun rises from 25, go to intensive care, no whistles or balloons come in, sit down and take the country by the hand. I will say Happy Birthday! With a smile and try to listen his voice, and if I respond, you peguntaré: What can your child?
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