My Sweet Orange Tree: How Do You View the World?

  

    This book has provided me with a variety of emotional experiences. The main character in "My Sweet Orange Tree" is a boy named Zezé, aged 5 to 6, who is constantly referred to as "the devil's child" by his family and others due to his mischievous personality. However, inside that boy who was always playing tricks was a sensitive soul, full of emotions, and prone to maturing early.

Zezé was born into a poor family with many brothers and sisters, his father was frequently unemployed, and his mother had to work all day early to care for the family, but this did not dampen his imagination. A wonderful wealthy man with a kind heart, sensitive to the suffering of others - the aspect of her personality that balances her mischievousness. I cried as I read the author's description of Zezé's family's poverty, poverty depicted in the image of another Christmas season passed but Zezé's shoes remained empty, not a single gift left. enter. And I cry for a child who is so young but must face this harsh reality, which enrages Zezé and exclaims: "It's terrible to have a poor father!"

I also cried when I saw a child growing up too quickly and having to endure beatings, scoldings, and curses from his family as a result of his misbehavior. The bitter aftertaste of poverty, combined with the pain of rejection and scolding, painted a moving picture of Zezé's life, in which a boy's imagination and innocence were quickly tested by the rigors of life. But it doesn't matter because behind the house, next to Zezé, is a sweet orange tree named Pinkie - a special friend for her to vent her heart out to. Things improve when Zezé meets a physical friend in the form of Mr. Bo, who always rides in a car that will become "his and Zezé's car."

Mr. Bo brought affection, which Zezé's life is currently lacking. Being friends with Bo and having a son who calls him his father taught Zezé that "life is miserable without love and compassion," as Nha Nam wrote on the back cover of the book. hidden.” And there's the real pain that the precocious boy finally feels in the book's final pages.

    Zezé doesn't have many friends, or at least not the true best friends she's always desired. Zezé has no money and no small toys that are hidden in her shoes every Christmas. I have to take a shoe shine toolbox to the street or roam the dusty streets selling notebooks with lyrics whenever I want something, even if all I want is a box of pills. a low-cost leaf for his father or a crumpled book for his sister Worse, it appears that she lacks the love she receives from her family members. They scolded me, beat me, and cursed me. Zezé often laments, "If only I hadn't been born into this world."

    Zezé had to learn to struggle with hunger, poverty, rejection, and ridicule from the poor people where she was born and raised from the age of five, coming from a poor family in the Brazilian suburbs. Zezé, on the other hand, is not a complete pervert. Zezé is sometimes childish, but he is also very disruptive and naughty. I cut a neighbor's clothesline, rubbed candle wax on the street to watch people fall, acted like a snake with a long black stocking, and laughed at pedestrians' panicked screams. Terror threatened the execution. But, at the very least, Zezé is aware of his (at times outrageous) vandalism. I believe a demon was born in my heart, inciting me to do evil; I feel self-conscious as if everyone in my family is nice except for me. After each game, I sometimes feel extremely guilty. Not only that, but Zezé has many other positive qualities, the most important of which is a sensitive and selfless heart.

    Because she had to learn how to grow up amid a family going through a difficult time: her father lost her job, her mother had to feed eight mouths on her own, and Zezé was the most disruptive child in the family, it seemed like Zezé was always fighting battles. brutal whippings from people I care about Violence is passed down from father to son to brother to sister. They beat me mercilessly, insulting me in an incomprehensible language. Violence breeds violence, and violence breeds more violence. When I do something wrong, Zezé gets hit; when I do something right, Zezé can also be beaten; and when I do nothing, I can easily get a beating for no reason. This toxic and anti-scientific educational method has gradually transformed Zezé from a hyperactive boy full of curiosity about the miraculous movements of the world to a withdrawn, silent boy only daring to believe and trust. She had only one friend, a sweet orange tree behind the house that she named Beloved. Even so, I can't bring myself to complain about those who have brutally beaten me. When I'm talking with my brother, I always find good points to compliment them on; when I make a mistake, I try my hardest to fix it, even if it means giving up all the fun, stealing the toolbox, and wandering around the alleys to earn money to buy an apology gift.

    Not only that, but Zezé is incredibly intelligent. I can read even when I'm not in class, and I always finish first on every test. Zezé sings well, she is active, she is so emotional that she is willing to steal flowers to give to the aunt she adores, or she is so sick that she passes out for days when she learns of the unfortunate accident of a beloved friend. Unfortunately, good people are frequently unhappy.

    The more I think about Zezé's bright spots, the more I fall in love with her. I'm sorry for being so unhappy, sorry for being too sensitive, sorry for understanding it all too well. Zezé has thoughts and words that really shock me at times because of her intelligence, understanding, and awareness of everything that is going on around her. That five-year-old boy has always been fascinated by the age at which people reach adulthood, but did he realize that he is being forced to mature before his time?

    My Sweet Orange Tree is a story inspired by José Mauro de Vasconcelos' personal experiences, so the book is filled with autobiographical colors. Old childhood memories intertwined with the melancholy of sadness, the grayness of poverty, and the whip have given this small book a distinct impression that is difficult to misinterpret. I cried for almost half of the last half of the book. Reading the title, my sadness seems to have multiplied. Why is it that life can be so cruel and unfair to such wonderful people?

    My Sweet Orange Tree was sad, but also beautiful, and it made readers cry. It showed us the magical power of love and the deep sorrow of the cost of living. mature. That there is nothing worse than a home devoid of love, and that every child must grow up at some point. But, most importantly, how will they grow up? When will they say goodbye to childhood? Will the road to adulthood be filled with laughter or soaked in tears, the bitter taste of separation from a sad and painful childhood? love, just like Zezé used to be.

    The story's ending made me sob, and my tears flowed once more. I cried for what happened, for Zezé, and for what it was like to feel the pain that a young child like you felt. The simple, clear text, like the white color of the orange flower behind the house, makes the reader's heartbreak at the end.

After all, Zezé discovered what made life worthwhile - an experience that changed his life forever. That is perhaps the most beautiful and memorable message that the author wishes to convey through this tearful but also joyful story.