BG Fairytales: What it is like to live your life in a village

Once upon a time there was a beauty living in a small village near the capital.

Her hair was made of gold, her eyes were hiding sea, her smile was shining bright, and her mind was fresh and clear.

She was as beautiful as a shy spring flower – unblemished sixteen year old, beautiful young girl – the beauty of the whole village.

Every Monday she would walk to the center of the village to buy soft bread for her family.

But this Monday was fateful.

In the bakery she met a man who she had never seen before.

A tall, witching man, with a cryptic smile and stunned sight. He was about thirty years old and was staring at this gold-haired-princess with wonderful eyes.

It was a first-sight-love.

But nobody agreed with their love.

He was fifteen years older than her, divorced, living in another village with his mother, father, his little daughter and a lot of animals.

In her parents’ eyes that was not exactly the right man for their daughter.

But somehow love won after all.


They settled down in his house.

Every day he was crossing the endless green meadows with all the cows and sheep they had.

She was impatiently waiting for him, while doing all the housework, taking off the eggs from the hen house, feeding the hens, pigs and dogs, irrigating the vegetable gardens and taking care for their three lovely children.

Twenty years later he got sick and died young.

All the years she lived after that, she was only waiting to go there, where he was.

I saw her. Old, but still beautiful, mild.

She was my grandmother’s mother.

And their house in this small village was my favorite place, my natural spirit charger, my first inspiration.

There I wrote my first essay, only twelve years old, inspired of this sky


… and the birds’ songs.

Now I miss this view. I miss the natural milk, just milked from the cow, the natural butter, just made out of this milk, the natural yogurt, so sour. I miss the tasty pink tomato, the fragrant green pepper, the sweet red strawberry. I miss the fresh air, the peace in the air. I miss the real love, the real personality, the real life.

Just be real.

Someone needs it.


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