Page 10 - Revelation
P. 10

Svetlana de Rohan-Levashova.   Revelation




























                                                 Svetlana Seryogina
                  independent of place, time or somebody's wish. From the earliest days of my
            conscious  existence  our  enormous  old  garden  became  the  favourite  place  of  my
            everyday games. Until now I remember, in the minutest detail, the feeling of that
            unique  child's  delight  which  I  always  experienced  running  out  there  on  a  sunny
            summer morning! I submerged into that extremely familiar and at the same time so
            mysterious  and  ever-changing  world  of  smells,  sounds  and  absolutely  inimitable
            senses; the world which regrettably grows and changes as we grow and change, and
            later we have neither time nor strength to stop and listen to our soul.

                  We constantly speed along in a wild whirlpool of days and events, pursuing our
            dream and trying to "achieve something in this life" at all cost. And gradually we
            begin to forget (if we remembered it at all) how strikingly beautiful a blossoming
            flower  can  be,  how  marvelous  the  forest  smells  after  the  rain  or  how  sometimes
            incredibly deep the silence can be and how our soul exhausted by the everyday race
            needs just a simple rest.

                  Usually I woke up very early. Morning was my favourite part of the day (which,
            regrettably, totally changed when I grew up). I adored hearing the way the still sleepy
            earth woke up from the morning coolness; seeing how the first drops of dew sparkled
            still hanging on tender floral petals and then fell down like little diamond stars at the
            lightest puff of the breeze. I relished watching LIFE waking up to meet the new day.
            This was truly MY world. I loved it and was absolutely sure that it would be with me
            forever.
                  At that time we lived in the old two-story house surrounded by an enormous old
            garden. Every day my mother went to work and my father mainly stayed at home or
            was out for trips because he worked as a journalist in a local newspaper the name of
            which  I  regrettably  do  not  remember.  Therefore  almost  all  day  I  spent  with  my
            grandpa and grandma, my father’s parents (as I knew later, his foster parents).









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