Does the ash of Leningrad knock on our hearts?

My name is David, I live in Yerevan, I am 10 years old. I love to draw, read, especially love to read fairy tales of Andersen. I love cartoons: about Transformers, Rangers, and about X-Men, I really like Wolverine.

I don’t know why myself, but at home I’m constantly unhappy with me - either my mother or my grandmother. I get angry when they make me eat. I love pizza, chips, ice cream, and they offer me something completely different. So that I fed my appetite, grandmother leads me into the garden. I really like it there, because our garden is very beautiful, and I like to play there. One day, when I was walking with my grandmother, an incident occurred that shook me greatly. That's what I want to tell.

When we walked with my grandmother, I often noticed one very old granny, she was very thin, as if dried, and her hands were trembling badly, she could barely walk. Everybody somehow avoided her, looked around, but they were afraid to look at her, for some reason everyone hid her eyes. Everyone felt somehow uncomfortable and, as my grandmother said, “they wanted to hide under the garden benches.”

The old woman came up to the passers-by and handed out pieces of dried black bread to everyone. Frankly, I disdained to take this spoiled bread, but others took and thanked her, and then secretly threw it away. The children who took the bread, the old woman gently stroked the head. I somehow got used to it and did not pay much attention. I was all busy with my new Transformer, when suddenly she sat down next to the bench. I strongly wanted to get up and run away, but my grandmother quietly told me that "it is inconvenient, since the old woman can be offended."

They talked, and I learned that this grandmother once had four sons, and they all died of starvation in Leningrad. There was then a war, this war was called the Great Patriotic War. For three years Leningrad was surrounded by the fascists, there was absolutely nothing at all, and the weakest were dying. The old woman looked at me and said that the eldest was the same as me. Then kind people brought her to Yerevan, and she stayed with her relatives, who were caring for her.

Then she got up and left, but I no longer wanted to play with a toy. My grandmother told me that when I was born, it was also very difficult with bread in Armenia, because we were surrounded by enemies, and again there was a war in Karabakh. Many fled from the massacres and pogroms, but many fought and won their homeland. Then peace came, but many adults died, so there are so many crosses in our hero cemetery - Yerablur.

When I returned home, I was very angry, and all my anger I tore at Transformer. I no longer wanted to play war, and I threw away all my submachine guns and pistols. I began to respect the bread, I realized his great price. My grandfather told me how difficult it is to grow bread, he worked in the village for many years - he managed a large area.

Yesterday I was walking with my grandmother in the garden again, but I did not see the old woman. The janitor told us that the old woman had died, and I cried loudly, and I was not at all ashamed of my tears. When we returned home, I noticed that my grandmother also secretly wiped my eyes, which were completely red.

That's just one thing, I just can not understand why so many smart and serious uncles who lead us can not agree and ban the war forever.

Grandfather once told me that adults get a lot of money because of the war. Is this money more important than children?

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