The person with whom I was fortunate enough to meet was not a famous composer, artist, writer, famous for the whole world. But, in my opinion, it was a genuinely talented person. I want to talk about my grandmother.
When someone says that he has golden hands, I always remember her. Here she sits at her loom, smiles at something, quietly sings or tells us, her grandchildren, a story from her life, and her hands move as if by themselves.
Grandmother wove rugs. So they called long woven tracks in the village, which were usually laid on the floor. Only at the grandmother they turned out unusual, it was very skilful work: bright, warm colors, never repeating drawing. Even when fashionable expensive carpets appeared in many houses, people continued to order rugs and rugs, took them to Moscow, Ryazan, Krasnoyarsk and said that these homespun products reminded of a mother, a village childhood. In many houses grandmother’s things took root and still delight their owners.
In my opinion, leaving people behind is joy and, therefore, to be a genuinely talented person.