This piece of writing is not new, it had been somehow lost and I decided to publish it again as I am working on my writing.
People are born to be happy and to find meaning in life. To give birth to children, to watch their first steps, to see their success in life. At the end of their lives people are supposed to lead a peaceful quiet life with their grandchildren around.
Оn my way to school today, I happened to see a man whom I recognised with difficulty. It seemed to me that the man on the bench in the yard was our former PE teacher. He was heard to be seriously ill and paralyzed and none of his close relatives wanted to look after him. So after leaving the hospital he lived alone in a small wooden house not far from Gomel. «No, it can’t be him», I thought, and continued my way.
The new events followed immediately. A woman telephoned the school and asked for help. She needed some strong men to lift a disabled man to the third floor. It reminded me of the scene on my way to work. I was not mistaken. I knew the man.
That morning his house in the nearby village caught fire, everything burnt down. Not a single thing was saved. A misfortune. But I was even more impressed by the fact that people, who had saved him from the fire, didn’t take him to his mother or sister, but to a woman who looked after him from time to time. She turned out to be the only person who wasn’t indifferent to him.
A disabled man, who used to be a PE teacher…
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