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On a sunny day, I was walking along the ivy-covered church fence. At the gates a beggar addressed me, politely asking for alms. Got no money, I replied. “Then take some of mine”, said the beggar – “a man cannot be completely without money”. I quickened my pace and entered the church hall. After the blinding daylight, it was dim and gloomy.  The priest in his long robe stood with his back to me at the altar, lighting candles. Should I address him, I wondered, and while I was undecided, the priest suddenly said, without looking at me, "do you have a question for me, my son?" “I had, but not anymore”, I answered honestly. “I forgot my question while I was wondering if I should bother you”. The priest turned to me, his face was in tears, but he was smiling. “Perhaps you intended to light a candle, my son?” - he asked. “Yes”, I lied. “Yes, I would light a candle”. “Please do, my son”,  - stepping aside, the priest moved deeper into the hall. I took one of the candles, lit it, and stuck it into the free hole of the sanctuary lamp, remembering my father's face. Then I left the church. The beggar had disappeared, there was no one at the door. The weather was changing rapidly – the wind blew, and the dark clouds in the sky were getting broader. I headed towards the farmers market. The rain caught me in the middle of the road. I turned into an alley of elms and lindens, and sat down on a bench, covered under the branches. The rain didn't bother me much, but I didn't want to get soaking wet. The passers-by didn’t turn to look at me, and I, in turn, didn’t look at them. The world lived its usual day, the smells of leaves and grass were sharply perceptible, and no one around had to prove their rightness. I bought everything that was planned – a box of daises, tomatoes and cucumbers. I set up a mini garden on my balcony,  and in sunny weather it was full of buzz, bumblebees and butterflies circled over petunias and daisies. I often remembered this naive picture of summer later, in the cold days of winter.
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