I grew up in a large family: two sons, two daughters. I am the firstborn of our family. I do not remember my childhood well, but we never had our own house, we lived in the house of my maternal grandmother, and my father always dreamed of building his own house. But back then there was no time to build houses, we had to work to feed our hungry family. Now we are all adults, my brother and I are married and live in our village, my older sister married a foreigner and moved to live with him, and my younger sister already has a husband and a child.
When the whole family gathered in my parents’ house, my father looked at us and said. -“Wow, there are so many of us, there is not enough room, if we had a huge house, we could all fit there. When my father retired and had free time, he decided to fulfill his long-held dream. My brother, brother-in-law and I helped him, it was hard, but we tried for the sake of my father. Unfortunately, my father never lived to enjoy the sweet fruit of long work.
We often jokingly asked my father who would get the result of the common work, because there were so many of us. My father would smile and say: -The house will go to the one who needs it the most. Many years have passed since that day, I am already a grandfather. My mother is long dead. And our house is still empty. Everyone has their own corner, their own apartment, family, children. And there are only memories and warmth in the soul. -I will build a house and will have fun here with my family every day!
