Dad is lucky, he pulls sledges for the rope, and I see his back ...
I sit, leaf Facebook, resting on a lunch break. And here comes across the tape "About the most kind children's memories." Start reading, of course. And there is all the warm, present
Exactly what always attracts me and interests - what is the main thing in our actions in relation to each other? Why some things remember all her life, although if they just tell about them, as the facts - they are not impressive completely - neither the volume or result. And I have long been thinking that the solution is what kind of "background" is dealing with us for another person. Or, in its basis, in prompting to action, love is lying, that is, the act is inevitable in essence and is directed sincerely for the benefit of who he is being done. Or in prompting to action lies some other, not such a high feeling, for example, the desire to like or get praise, or something else that means some "benefit" for the one who does it. And although it is not always a negative, but still, it cannot be called disinterested, although it does not reduce the price of the actions.
But the trace in the soul leave other things.
... Winter, I'm sitting on sledding, closed to the eye. I must have from 4 to 5 years. Dad is lucky, he pulls sledges for the rope, and I see his back. Dad quickly walks, I barely distinguish it through the snow that goes large flakes. The face blows a strong wind and eyes all the time plins snowflakes. I understand that we have already passed half of the way, and soon come home, but I get cold - the wind permeates the fur coat - and I start to hone. Dad stops, and leans to me.
- frozen, daughter? - In his voice anxiety.
I'm shyring my nose, and it seems, I do not have time to answer anything. Dad strongly unbutton his fur coat, removes him and buys me into him, like a blanket, a podeta from all sides. I immediately warm up - the daddy walked is incredibly warm and cozy, with a couxerous hard pile inside. And the dad picks up the rope and even faster goes through the snow buran, tackle behind him, at which I sit, and I look at my daddy, dressed only in the sweater, with a carelessly closed scarf and in a hat instantly brought by snow. And he looks around, check out how there I am having fun smiles and drinks running - Docha, I am an athlete!
And this frame was imprinted in my consciousness for life. As an example of disinterested dedicated love. Although, these are just words, they do not pass what I feel when I remember this case ... This is what is remembered for a lifetime and often really resurrecting the soul ...