If the earthly stories become equivalent in the flowing of the time of existence, they diverge in the reading of small differences, in the pursuit of different tones of desires and hopes. The story of this ordinary woman clashes with the extremes of white and black of those who loved her, which were children in turn, with different colors and destinies. The only invitation comes back in the words of mothers - throughout the generations - to love every "wounded fool so that he can be free to find himself out in the stormy sea”.