My childhood, as probably with anyone, is a series of bright events. A lot of them. It’s difficult to choose one. I would like to talk a lot about it. But perhaps the most significant is first love.
She came to my life in the second grade. His name was Sashka. I am an excellent student, and he is a second year student. They put us at one desk. Honestly, I was always bored in the lessons - studying was easy and I almost always knew everything that the teacher would talk about. And here is a boy nearby who writes with monstrous errors, incorrectly solves problems, reads slowly and is completely unable to retell texts. It became interesting to live.
I don’t remember now whether he copied from me or not. Maybe yes. But I remembered the time we spent together after class.
I guess I will make you smile or even laugh, but after the lessons, we first did the lessons together. Somehow it happened by itself. Practically without saying a word, we remained in the classroom and prepared together for tomorrow.
And then they fled to the park (it was next to the school) and searched for the most impassable places, introducing themselves as pioneers, hiding from imaginary enemies, building shelters. Even now I remember how we escaped from the chase, and he constantly “shouted” at me - well, I couldn’t move silently along dry branches.
Oh my god, that was so interesting!
The scenario of the next game he came up with. And not only invented, but he himself embodied it in life. Moreover, I never knew in advance what would happen this time. By the way, then I did not perceive all this as a game, the impressions were so real. How long it lasted is hard to say now. And then this happened.
There was a central linden alley in the park, at the end of which there was overgrown wild dogwood. After another adventure, we climbed onto dogwood bushes to enjoy berries. And then she came running - Milka, his former classmate, with whom Sasha studied earlier, before he was left in his second year. She screamed at us and led him away. And I stayed on the dogwood branches. The understanding that something terrible had happened came later, when Milka began to come into our classroom every day after school and take Sasha away.
I remember how I rushed about, howled, how I couldn’t find a place for myself, how I hated Milka, how I thought up how she could get revenge.
I remember running to my mother, frightening her to death by sobbing bitterly and unable to stop, repeating only one thing: “But he left with her, and he left with her, and he left with her ...”
Mom went through all the relatives, asking what happened to each of them, until she realized what really happened. She hugged me, hugged me tightly and said: my girl, you fell in love. I remember how deeply I was struck by these adult words.
And recently, the story of my first love received an unexpected continuation. No, we never met Sasha again. Just last summer, I decided to show my childhood places to my granddaughter. We walked through the park. At the end of the linden alley, I was surprised to see the same dogwood thicket, only the berries were still green.
Memories flooded and I told my granddaughter what happened here many years ago. We sat on a small bench, she snuggled up to me and said: "The boys are so inconsistent ..." She paused and added: "But I will always love you."