(A humorous story)

“Pretty much all the honest truth telling in the world is done by children.”
(Sherlock Holmes)

I`am ten years old. We go to the countryside with my grandmother! I’m so happy! Her petite paradise is just incredible!

I`am fourteen ten years old.  I`am so bored with never-ending quarrels of my folks!

I`am twenty years old. It seems that my grandmother has gone mad, the whole day she mows the grass at the high fence of her dacha, a small summer cottage as if it is the most important work in her life. Who needs it?

I`am twenty–five years old. The dacha is needed only for barbeques and shashliks.

I`am forty-five years old.  Should I plant something? I have a deep feeling that I have a green thumb too…

I`am sixty years old. The whole dacha garden is in the red roses. I work there day and night. Especially, I like moving grass at a high fence. It is my petite paradise.

I`am seventy-five years old. Every weekend I carry a heavy backpack to the dacha, my tiny summer cottage, my children and grandchildren do not help at all, they say, “We do not need to plant anything, the supermarket is around the corner. And only my great-granddaughter, being 10 years old, likes to accompany me and to smell the blossoming flowers in my summer cottage garden…

Life GOES ON.