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I'm standing at the window, watching snowflakes dancing across the sky. They are falling like they haven't in a long time. My memory goes back many years.
Sometimes it is very difficult to describe a place or an idyllic place; it is for me now too. In my memory there is a house on a hill among bushes and woods.
Wood. Trees. Living creatures that attract me very much. I love their crowns and trunks, and especially their varied and branching roots.
When I first arrived at my new job, I was uncertain, quiet and full of questions. I didn't know what to expect, who my new colleagues were or if they would accept me.
As a young graduate teacher, I came to teach in a small village in the Posavje hills. A small village and a small school.
My first encounter with the so-called Vatican bread, at the age of almost 26, was in December, when the days are short and the city closes in the evening.
Some people belong to their homeland without talking about it. They simply live it.
Tuesday in January was one of those days when winter showed its full strength. Some saw it as a white fairy tale, while for others it was a time of worry, unhappiness and cautious glances towards the road.
I'm not much of a baker. I always say that there are some dishes I can cook, but for everything else I need a bit of luck and a lot of good will.
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Send us your story or a story from someone you know that shows how you live these core values. How we respect and trust each other, stay true to integrity, help each other, show loyalty and maintain moderation.
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