Hot cup of coffee!

Hot cup of coffee

 When I was young, my mother worked all the time in the hospital as a doctor and I spent most of my time with my grandmother. 

My grandmother had a small but very cozy apartment and I was particularly fascinated by the wallpaper covering all the walls in all the rooms; on which there were drawings of families outings in nature with the pets running here and there.

The families had lunch and snacks with a cup of hot tea or coffee. I would contemplate on these drawings for long periods of time and let my imagination run wild and a lot of daydreaming as you can imagine !

And my grandmother always used to tell me: What do you like about this wallpaper? I can assure you it’s the same thing everyday and it will never change.

 My grandmother was drinking coffee, unusual for the Russian people who love tea, with some local pastries ( pirojkis), that have been passed down from generation to generation.

 And I wondered why my grandmother used to drink a big cup of hot coffee every day. And one day I decided to ask her to put an end to this mystery that differs from all the neighbors who only drink one drink as if nature did not produce anything else on the surface of the earth!

 One day I decided to ask my grandmother why she chose hot coffee instead of tea, and there was always only one answer to this question: Not now!

 One day, it was a Sunday and my mom didn't go to the hospital because it was a day off, so we decided to go out for a short walk and of course to do some Picnic, and go out for a relaxing day in nature.

 These were the happiest moments of my life when I could spend some quality time with my mom ; I used to ask her all the way about the names of trees and their fruits and plants and wild and non-wild flowers without tiring or getting bored. 

My mother also answered me with enthusiasm and eagerness to make up for the long absences, she was feeling guilty without any doubt.

 The nature was beautiful and the weather at the end of August was great with no chance of rain.

A lot of birds were singing around us; I was always curious about their names and where they came from, and why birds have always to travel to other exotic lands, and not happy to stay where they are , just like us: humans!

I was also wondering where they were hiding during the cold season and who gave them this feather and who painted it in all these vivid colors! I was dreaming as well, in my daydreaming to have the chance to get similar colors; that much I loved artistic asp of the nature, without knowing it at that time.

Clouds seemed to be always amused to play the hide and seek game; I was looking at and following these clouds and I remember asking the adults around me: why clouds cry? Why hurt them and why, they never hurt anybody and they are always there when we need to talk to anybody. But they don’t find in return anybody when they need to cry, and everyone is just running away, is it fair? I don’t think so.

Once, one frog was hit by a car on the high way, though it was just playing and jumping. They say that in France they eat frogs’s hips, may be that’s why they jump all the time to spoil their meals eaten with a lot of spicy sauces and considered the best on the menu!

I look to all these flowers around me, are they the reflections of the birds colors? Or may be they got painted when the clouds were crying. May be it’s the sacrifice clouds are doing by giving all these colors to the nature, and the flowers are getting all the compliments; life is not faire, even the sky knows that. Not all the flowers are lucky, some of them are massacred and their souls are hidden is bottles of all typa de sizes, do they keep them for the next life? Do flowers have reincarnation too?

The rainbow is a faithful friend, he never leaves the clouds when they are crying. Can we find a lot of rainbows in our life time, or it’s only one and has expiration date just like the honey in the jar? Please rainbow, dear rainbow, get cloned and I promise I’ll get you a true identity card.

what do I suggest? I suggest that there will be a village for flowers and another one for birds and bees, and that there will be a huge beauty contest where the sky, the cloud and the sun would represent the jury! The criteria of Miss gardens is to be the least selfish by donating all the extra colors and spread it around, just like a magic dust that would turn into fruits and candy to feed everyone.

 If I knew later that these moments could not be repeated, I would have put them in a box and sealed it so that I could smell its perfume later when I walked on the rugged serpent road with deadly slopes. 

But my innocence was showing me that these moments are certainly the beginning of more beautiful and beautiful moments.

 And then my mom said let's sit here and have lunch before sunset. After lunch, my mother brought out cups of tea for me and her, but she brought out one small cup for my grandmother for coffee. I said to my mother with enthusiasm: Mama, this cup looks like the one drawn on my grandmother's wallpaper! 

My mother laughed and said to my grandmother: As far as I remember it was a gift from Jean-Pierre before he left back to France when the war was over, wasn't it?!

Now, when I grew up, I realized that coffee love is also inherited!