Vera was known as "the granddaughter of the madwoman." And it was that Vera's grandmother had spent half her life saying that she saw the future, launching prophecies that nobody understood. She hadn't even gotten to know her, but in none of the family photos did it seem that this sweet, smiling old lady might be out of her mind. That is why he was so excited the day he discovered a note from him hidden in an old jewelry box.
"There is a place where it rains chocolate from the sky, and there is hidden a great treasure. Whoever finds it will be rich!", Said the note.
Vera did not hesitate to go after the treasure and began to go on excursions, secretly traveling all the corners of the mountains, looking for a place where chocolate would rain. But wherever he went it always rained water. Valleys, caves, rivers, deserts, forests or grasslands. It always rained water.
One day, discouraged, she was crying by a road when a child approached her.
- Why are you crying?
- Because all clouds are made of water! Woof!
- Of course! - The boy replied- What do you want them to be, chocolate?
- Yes! Buaaaaa!
- Well, that would be great. I would love it to rain chocolate. Like in a story I read as a child.
Vera stopped crying. A story? What if your grandmother was referring to a book? Chocolate can rain on a book and anything can happen!
Without saying anything else, he gave the boy a big hug and ran to the library, looking for the story in which it rained chocolate. Surely there was the clue to find the treasure.
That day, and many more that followed, Vera spent the whole day reading in the library, looking for the book of chocolate clouds. He found rainbow dreams, musical seas, forests of smiles, but no trace of the chocolate rain. Not during the first week. Not in the first month. Not after the first year. But knowing it existed, she was determined to keep looking.
Until the day came when the books ran out and he didn't know what to do.
- If you can't find that book you've been looking for so much, why don't you write it? - Said the librarian, trying to comfort her.
- Well, because that is not the case, I am looking for something else - he replied.
But on the way home he kept mulling over the idea, and a beautiful story with chocolate clouds grew in his head, which he couldn't resist writing when he got to his room. As he did so and in his imagination he played with that sweet rain, a thousand new stories and ideas emerged, each one more fun and original. He created new worlds and creatures effortlessly, and made them live on paper and in the imagination of others. This is how he discovered that his grandmother was right: he had read so much that his head was a treasure from which ideas that he used to write, to speak, to learn or even invent, and with which he earned the respect and admiration of everybody.
And I felt that it was very rich, because I would not change that little head on which chocolate rained for anything; Not for all the gold in the world.