I missed walking in the grass. It smelled the sun and the summers of childhood when the clouds in the sky were elephants and castles; when the wind fingers combed the hair. I got into the meadow, but I didn’t find my childhood there. It smelled the evening, the passing day, and the smell was so fresh after rain that does not stop a few days already.
And I understood that miracles are hiding not in the green grass but inside me. There is so little space but it has to find room for the most beautiful nights and days, memories and dreams. And if we scatter everything and put the money, vanity, and jealousy instead of this beauty, then the grass will no longer smell, and the clouds will no longer look like elephants.
I hope, it still smells ti you. Let it last as long as possible.
© Fortune, 2009
Do you still believe in miracles?