Through the child's eyes

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This adventure of a few months happened many years ago. That time I was only an child, and everything around me seemed fantastic and magical like fairy-tales. But everybody were affirmed that there were no magic fairies in our world, but I faithfully continued to believe in the most beautiful dreams. Only children were not able to hide their dreams, and it’s not difficult for adults.

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Seven years ago my family made a journey to India, because my parents had to work in this wonderful country. Despite the fact that we were met by a driver of the jeep Mercedes, dark and scary Delhi city adopted us not very welcome. Because we somehow were settled in the shabby hotel, in which we had to spend the night. And the next day parents, my brother and I saw our interpreter only in the evening, because he was late. Though all day we were spending time waiting for him, I wasn’t bored, as the terribly old and dusty chandelier, hanging in the main hall of the three-star hotel, reminded me a vintage lamp from the medieval castle. And I was inventing funny stories about knights, trying to save a princes from the dragon, all day long.

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Before my mother started working like a tutor in the Indian University, she had had to learn the culture of this country closer, that’s why we were traveling to places where practically we no tourists. Once we were taken to the very vintage temple as if that was a cave. There were a lot of monkeys, taking away somebodies bags or packets, trying to find something to eat. That animals ruthlessly jumped on the people and knocked they down; it was their territory and they were aggressively defending it, as pirates their treasure. And now, when we would come in the cave we saw the Black Beard, counting gold coins.

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That trip was fascinating, but on the was home we got up in a traffic jam. There were a modern car on the right and a collapsing cart, harnessing with buffaloes on the left of our car. At that time, I was more interested in buffalo then some iron car, because I had never seen the model of transport like that on the urban roads before that moment. The animal also became interested in my continual observation and with happiness or curiosity it licked the window of our car. I even cried out in surprised, it was so funny.

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One day I was relaxing in the park one of the Indian University, and suddenly a woman came up to me. My brother had gone in the shop to buy water for us and I had stayed in the park enjoying reading a fantastic book. Stranger fascinatingly looked in my eyes and said: “Come”. I noticed a henna tattoo on her wrist; it remind me a sign of a secret order. At that moment I thought that the woman wanted me to join their secret society fighting against evil. Before my mother started teaching students, we had managed to visit many cities and places, and even ride on elephants, all in this country were wonderful and amazing.

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She was always speaking Hindi to me, and among every words I understood only one promising word “Come”. But only now in my seventeen I realized what I had been a na i ve girl. It was great that my brother came on time, otherwise I was taken away by that woman to nowhere. Now you see, what a dangerous situation had happened because of children’s imagination! I could lead to the kidnapping. Now I could hardly believe in that.

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Our family stayed for Christmas in India, and we got a rest in Goa as a kind of a gratitude. Our journey finished in a very expensive hotel. When I was inside I found myself in a palace like in ancient where the balls were held. And there was the balls and follower with a fantastic Christmas fireworks: that seemed me to be in a fairy-tale world.

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After all, I can say that only a child can believe in miracles, only he can notice magic in simple things and be happy all the time . But if an elderly person or a grown-up willing to believe in fairy-tales, it means he has a young soul, and every day as a miracle for him.

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