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Plaza Venezuela; a fountain, many stories.

Any day; I left the Central University of Venezuela on my way to Plaza Venezuela to take the bus and go home. I was dreamy in my problems, something quite common for any particular moment: just think about the problems. Serious conditions, but frequent, as the child delinquency; the food shortage; not having enough money and consequently find another job; the line to buy food at the price that is and not "Bachaqueada(goods resold at a higher price than the market) " or not being able to buy because regular food is available in the number of your id says the day that you are able to buy and probably that day and probably that day does not correspond to you. The delays in the subway; the lack of buses, public transport in general; not get cash; that the water does not reach the house for I do not know how long; the number of friends and family who have gone of the country or who unfortunately have "left" but not only the country if not their life, because the right to live in my country is something that every day that passes seems more a luxury of a few that inherent right to the simple condition of being human. This is the Venezuela that I had to know.

Anyway. I was walking on a bridge; cautious, because he was alone. A year ago in the news and WhatsApp groups comments that made reference to a group of street children, who have been dedicated to crime, stealing in the area.

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I realized that later there were five children, probably the same ones that I referred to earlier; On the sidewalk where I was walking, I crossed the square without thinking twice and I realized that there, not far from the water fountain, were, I imagine, the rest of this group of small criminals; however, I did not mind continuing my tour since there were enough people walking on the site; I felt much more secure.

I went to the bus stop, I made the line and I got on the bus without any problem. When the public transport started the journey, it passed through the square again; I saw the water fountain from another perspective, I had to bite my tongue for having judged them; everything seemed much clearer now. I saw those little children whom I had feared a few minutes ago; to those children who have nothing, who have simply been abandoned, who are not to blame for being there and that most of them have not even had the opportunity to study to improve their situation since they have had to work from creatures; ask for money on the street or eat from the garbage, from our leftovers...

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I saw them bathing in that fountain, in the great fountain of Plaza Venezuela; They seemed happy, they enjoyed. They were having a good time, they played with each other, like children they are, resting from their hard work, because when the clothes they wear dry out, surely the reality will hit them as well as it knocks us all out. Ironically, for them, it seems that reality is being more cruel than for anyone; It is not the same to go home after a long day that I do not have a place to go back. Sometimes fear creates in you prejudices that can destroy others with your way of seeing the world.

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