My dear heart corner of the planet
Фуст Неля Рудольфовна,
Maybe someone will seem strange, my dear heart corner of the planet. This is the city where I live. It is a city with a rich history, the heroic past, present, and a good bright future. The Sun City, a city of greenery, the city of my life. It is Volgograd. But the city is not only the locality. My City is its people.
Once I got into my hands an ordinary diary of Volgograd girl, I didn’t know her. Of course, she was writing about herself. She was writing about her observations: about herself, about the world, about our city. All her words seem quite common. And I want to share my thoughts with you today. Snow in the City is different.
Sometimes snow is falling fluffy flakes; you may catch a fallen from the sky a little star on your glove! "I love to watch as it gradually wears the gray streets in a white outfit, transforming our ordinary gray days. I came out of school. It seems I have everything in order. Only the quiet sadness creeps in my heart, treading carefully with a soft step - just like the snow outside the window ... "
"White snow! White snow is all over the world, white shroud of my joys and hopes. Sometimes it seems that the whole world is against you. So it is? " "Probably I am the reason of this thing. I like to consider myself a lone hero against the whole world. But the world is neither against nor for. But it is not care about us.
And everybody builds relationship with it himself. And I made a mistake fighting with it, with this snow that fallen so early ... ". "I'm going along the gray street. Snow is falling, melting right on the pavement. I want to hide from moisture and dirt, and I am deeply wearing a hood. I'm going to you. You will open the door and smile at me.
Let snow go on the streets! It is even beautiful, from the second story window “. "I got up in the morning and could not believe my eyes. Just yesterday it was damp, dirty and dull. And now it is white around, the sun's rays play in the winter blanket, and seems they dance on the white snow. Tell me, please! Do miracles happen?"
Our city shares joy and sorrow, weekdays and holidays with us. That means we are not alone. That means ... all will be well.
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