When one thinks of honors, in a general way, they focus on prominent people. People who have done great things, who have influenced or influence communities.

People who make a difference in the world. People whose performance in the sciences, in the arts, in politics was decisive for the change of sad pictures on the face of Earth.

However, there are so many other and special creatures who deserve the most profound homage. Mothers who go out to fight, every day, to get the honored bread for their children.

Fathers who embrace the dawns, before the sun is up, to ensure the modest housing, the book and the notebook for the child to illustrate.

Young people who abandon their own dreams to support the existence of younger brothers, providing them with food, school and clothing.

So many heroes. Anonymous. They pass by us every day. They use the urban transport, the subway, always crowded.

They face lines in the popular supermarket, in the family market, in the health station. In the tiredness of the face, they carry the hope that tomorrow will grow brighter and less difficult.

 They keep up without truce because from their effort and their work depend other precious beings to their heart.

They are not noticed. They are the ones who keep the cleanliness of the streets, of the big cities, of our homes.

They are the ones who arrive at our residence and guarantee us the clean house, the washed and ironed clothes, the food always on time.

They are the ones who build houses even if they do not occupy them. They are the ones who provide the flat roads even if they do not have cars to travel on them.

They are the ones who prepare the warm bread, in the mornings, even if in their house the only served bread is the dawn kind.

So many workers. So many creatures we depend on, every day. And who move the machine of the commerce, business, industry…

Our brothers. Many of them are almost invisible to our eyes.

Certainly, it was for them that Chico Buarque de Holanda and Vinicius de Morais composed the song Gente Humilde, immortalized by many singers.

It is a confirmation of a reality that is lived. It is also a great homage to all of these who fight, bravely, every day, with the dignity of those who are aware of their own value.

People who wake up the day, feed the hours with their work and guarantee their subsistence and of who else shares their life:

There are certain days when  I think of my people, and I feel all my chest tighten.

Because it seems that, it happens suddenly, as a desire for me to live without noticing myself.

Just like, when I pass by the suburbs, I am fine, coming by train, from somewhere…

And then it hits me, an envy of these people, who goes first, without even having anyone to count on.

They are simple houses with chairs on the sidewalk, and the facade written above that it is a home.

Through the balcony sad and abandoned flowers, like the joy that has nowhere to lean against.

And then it gives me a sadness in my chest, like a spite that I have no way to fight.

And I who do not believe, I pray to God for my people. Well humble people, what a desire to cry.

Spiritist Moment Team, with verses from the song
Gente humilde, by Chico Buarque de Holanda e
Vinícius de Morais.
May, 29.2019.