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[ESP/ENG] Jueves de TBT / La foto preferida de mis 15 primaveras
@estelacha
Posted 13h ago · 4 min read

La foto me habla con un lenguaje silencioso. Me recuerda la ingenuidad de los primeros sueños, la fuerza de la esperanza, la alegría de los días en que todo parecía posible. En su luz se refleja la vitalidad de la adolescencia, ese instante en que la vida se abre como un horizonte infinito. Pero también, al mirarla desde mis 63, descubro que aquella juventud no se ha perdido: se ha transformado en madurez, en serenidad, en la certeza de que cada etapa tiene su belleza y su sentido.
Hoy, esa imagen es un puente entre dos orillas: la del pasado que me sostiene y la del presente que me invita a seguir caminando. Es un recordatorio de que la vida no se mide solo en años, sino en la intensidad con que se viven los momentos. La foto de mis 15 es un símbolo de continuidad, de raíces que se afirman y de alas que se despliegan. Me enseña que el tiempo no borra, sino que cincela; no destruye, sino que revela.
Al contemplarla, siento gratitud. Gratitud por lo que fui, por lo que soy y por lo que aún puedo ser. Porque en esa mirada joven está contenida la historia de mis luchas, mis afectos, mis aprendizajes. Y al cumplir 63, descubro que la verdadera juventud no se pierde: se guarda en la memoria, se renueva en la esperanza y se celebra en cada amanecer. Esa foto, más que un recuerdo, es un espejo que me devuelve la certeza de que la vida, en todas sus edades, sigue siendo un milagro.
Créditos: La foto es de mi propiedad. He usado el traductor de Google.
ENGLISH
Today, having just turned 63, I look at this photo and feel time fold back on itself, like a river returning to its source. It's a photo from when I was 15, an image that holds the freshness of youth, undiminished dreams, and the promise of a future yet to be written. In it, I recognize not only the face of who I was, but also the seed of who I am now: a being shaped by memory, experience, and the constancy of the years.

The photo speaks to me in a silent language. It reminds me of the innocence of first dreams, the strength of hope, the joy of days when everything seemed possible. Its light reflects the vitality of adolescence, that moment when life unfolds like an infinite horizon. But also, looking at it from my 63 years, I discover that that youth hasn't been lost: it has transformed into maturity, into serenity, into the certainty that each stage has its own beauty and meaning.
Today, that image is a bridge between two shores: the past that sustains me and the present that invites me to keep walking. It's a reminder that life isn't measured only in years, but in the intensity with which we live each moment. The photo from when I was 15 is a symbol of continuity, of roots that take hold and wings that spread. It teaches me that time doesn't erase, but rather chisels; it doesn't destroy, but rather reveals.
Looking at it, I feel gratitude. Gratitude for what I was, for what I am, and for what I can still be. Because in that youthful gaze lies the story of my struggles, my affections, my lessons learned. And upon turning 63, I discover that true youth is not lost: it is kept in memory, renewed in hope, and celebrated with each sunrise. That photo, more than a memory, is a mirror that reflects back to me the certainty that life, at all its stages, continues to be a miracle.
Credits: The photo is my own. I used Google Translate.
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