It was long ago. At that time I worked as a master in the installation of plastic windows. And little by little, with a paycheck, I put in my three-room apartment one window a month. Then there was a boom on these windows, people installed these beautiful white windows in exchange for the forever blowing winter, wooden. I lived in Kazakhstan. In a small town in the Karaganda region. On the outskirts in the new district according to the standards of the rest of the city. Behind the window was already a forest strip and an endless steppe.

On another usual day waking up in the morning, I felt a rolling nausea and a sluggish feeling. I immediately realized that working with such a tone would be tough. He took his button Siemens and picked Paške. Paška was also a master of installation, and with understanding agreed to replace me, giving me a little sick at home.

I took my computer and ran into the kitchen, decided to make a toast with tea. He loved to smell the oil on the bread baked in the toaster, which melted and gave the toast an excellent taste. After dropping the bread into the toaster and putting the tea on the plate, he broke and sat down at the computer.

After 15 minutes, I heard a fire from a distance. He quickly broke into the kitchen, and sheaam... Nothing is visible and smells badly of burned bread under the sounds of boiling water in the teaker. Having sown on the floor according to all the laws of physics, understanding that the floor smoke is less and you can breathe more freely, he broke through the socket and turned off the toaster from power. (I completely forgot that a couple of days ago the toaster apparently broke and stopped automatically after the specified time to turn off, raising the mechanism with the pancakes up)

The window in the kitchen I have not yet changed to plastic, on the street minus 30, on the window ice even from the side of the apartment. I tried to open it for two minutes, it finally succeeded and the fork opened. I immediately sat down again closer to the floor, breathing a lot of fire and swing to the plate, turning off the tea.

I hear, straight like it seems, in the distance, a scream of “help.” I thought, an-no, again a whispering voice “help.” I quickly stood up and looked out the window, and there through the butterfly I saw two heads rolling from below and shouting for help.

Maybe a week ago, under my window, the tractor dug up a large pit, made heating pipes...well how did they do, knocked the wooden cliffs into the hole of the pipes and left without buriing the pit (how often it happened to us in those years) Naturally it filled with water and after the frost, naturally covered with ice. And naturally, a couple of friends of 7 or 8 years, walking around the house, decided to test the ice for strength, not knowing the consequences.

In general, seeing these little boys, I no longer remember what happened, in a moment I was barefoot in home shirts and a jacket near the pit, the winter children's clothes absorbed the water and it was very difficult to get them. But I got them, they are standing roaring in two throats, and I am on them like roaring, say, quickly run home. They ran away crying.

I went home and fell on day 3 with a fever. The father of one of the boys came to me, in a police uniform, saying that he did not even know how to thank for the saved life of his son. But I turned away, saying that everyone in my place would have done so.

So I then analyzed the situation and realized that if I did not get sick, I would go to work, I would not help the children, and if the toaster was right, I would not open the window and hear them.

I think everything in our world has its purpose, even the nameless stone behind a lonely hill, the toaster, and of course every person.



by PS. Children who helped in that difficult moment, if you read, then good for you and health.