High above the road, in a sunlit clearing, stood a short beauty with a red roof, a white complexion like Snow White and carved wooden shutters. In front of her stood a mighty lime tree, and beside it a fairy-tale carved bench. On it, in the early summer mornings and late evenings, sat a kind-hearted Nightingale, a good-natured little man like Kosobrin.
He was a master among masters. People loved to visit him and bring him things to fix: broken umbrellas, torn shoes or trousers. He knew how to fix and patch everything, and he loved to please everyone, for a little money or a sweet treat.
For us children, especially for me, the Nightingale was a very beautiful gift from the Creator. He never married, but he loved us very much. Sprinkled in our arms, singing to us or telling us true stories. When he was in a particularly good mood, he would pick up a violin and play for us. The children could listen to him all day long and everyone who heard him wanted to hear him again. You cannot imagine how beautifully he sang and with what respect we listened to him.
He knew how to sing countless old folk songs, which made us laugh to tears. We also thoroughly enjoyed him reading his books to us. Then we completely forgot about time. We did not even remember our aunts or our grandfather, not even that we were hungry. I was still a child, but I know that I never felt so much admiration and respect for anyone else. I wanted to help him in any way I could, because it was difficult for him to walk and he was not very good at cooking. All right, I'll help him, I told myself, and waited for the opportunity.
One summer morning, Aunt Slava called me and said, »You will take a snack to Atu in Debenec. He had gone to the vineyard early and there mount will stay all day.«
She put my snack in the basket and rushed over. But only to Nightingale, who ate half of it, and I took half of it to my dad. Nightingale's smile expressed endless gratitude, so this action was not enough for me. From then on, I carried my snack to him or South, as he called it. I secretly put it in a little pot and it brightened his day. At that time, quite unknowingly, I was learning moderation; with food and with everything else. I suppose that since childhood, greed as we know it in today's world has been alien and incomprehensible to me. From children who get everything they need, or do not, to adults who set an extremely bad example for children and others.
The sparkle in the eyes of a lonely man encouraged other children to do good deeds. The older boys chopped firewood and carried water for him, and we girls cleaned up his house. When he wanted tobacco, he sent us to the shop on Mirna. He also had coffee, and for us children he ordered sweets. Then, out of gratitude, he would play the violin for us, and we would sit around him, lick the candy and enjoy it. When I think about it today, I can say that it was a very modest holiday, but so emotionally rich that we children did not want anything else. We were so happy and we couldn't wait for the next holiday and for another exciting summer.
Darinka Kobal, 13. 1. 2026
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