Andrei and I are friends. We sit at one desk from the first class. Sometimes we do lessons together, we walk. This does not mean that we never quarrel with him, but we have learned to quickly forget grievances. I’m interested in visiting Andrei. His father is an artist. It is already felt in the hallway: here on the walls hang sketches to the pictures. There is one ready. It shows the courtyard where the windows of Andrei’s apartment go. In the small room there is an easel with the picture started, it smells of colors. At first glance, there is a mess in the room: everywhere you can see the brushes, several stretchers with canvas are propped against the wall. But soon you realize that this is not a mess. At the right moment, any thing in the room will serve the artist. There
Oksana, one of our classmates, was seriously ill. We with the guys visited her. Gloomy days of early winter, with slush, frequent rains, passing into the snow, acted oppressively. “Draw something sunny and give Oksana,” I asked. My friend devoted his father to our plans, and he not only gave advice to his son how to paint a picture that would radiate light, but he himself helped him. It was a boundless field of sunflowers, a bright blue sky. From the picture there was so much joyful light that you involuntarily forgot about slush, and about the cold outside the window.
The painting transformed Oksana’s room. When the girl looked at the sunflowers and the blue sky, her eyes shone. And soon Oksana herself came to school. Maybe not the picture helped her to recover at all, but I think that the picture too. She will always remind Oksana of the kindness, responsiveness and disinterestedness of my friend Andrew.