My police are taking care of me.
Just the militia.
This happened about 1982. In the summer I was sent from my village to my grandmother in the city. They handed me over and I became a temporary city resident. Everything is interesting... trolley buses, trams (I’ve only seen them in the letter before). I met some local guys. They were a few years older than me at the time. I didn’t say I was seven at the time. I don’t remember exactly, but somewhere. And here is the police, ask you, and here’s what happened. These guys invited me to ride the tram. I only saw it in books. I have agreed. I remember how the rails were touched by the foot, not if it was driving, and the ear was placed to them. have waited. They went. They arrived. Where is HS. But I trusted them...in vain. They started running for some columns, I, thinking that this was a game, ran after them, had fun, laughed. But somehow they disappeared. and all together. I did not realize it immediately, but when it came to me that I was alone, somewhere in the city, how, where, where, what? Panic began here. No to panic! I sat down at the nearest pillar and cried. And what else to do was to a 7-year-old child who knows where he is and where to go.
It began to dark. The Twilight. Since the time was July-August, it was already midnight. How long I sat there, I don’t know. I do not remember. From the thoughts of starving death, a woman’s voice drew me. He asked something.
There was a girl in front of me. in a military form. I, remembering all the stories of my parents that if you behave badly, then a uncle - a police officer will take you, I again racked up. I didn’t want to fall into the hands of the evil uncle – the police officer. But there was a tall (when you are 7 years old - all tall), a slim, cute girl. Even in military form.
Once reassured, I took her into the car and went to the department. And in my head all the thoughts - they were arrested, now they will be taken to jail and I will not see my grandmother and parents. But maybe the transmissions will be carrying – sending... (the books started. I’ve read Maynard and Jules Verne with an inch. But in that situation they did not help. What a fucking thing.) is
When I arrived at the police station, I found that the tears had not yet ended and I cried again. Now they go to jail and see. and above. But that aunt-military officer once again reassured me, asked where I live, but I don’t know... I said that I came to visit my grandmother. More precisely, they brought. And so everything calmly, polite, served candy, asked where, from where. I don’t know the address. He said that in the village, 50 km. from the city. What would you think? They drove me to Wasik and brought me home. at 4 o’clock at night. I slept all the way (maybe not, but I don’t remember it). I remember lying on the back seat. My head was on her feet. Aunt of Military. I was so calm. Here I realized that the militia not only puts people in jail, but also helps people! Since then I have ceased to fear the police.
"Imagine the kindness of parents, when at 4 a.m. the police give them a half-sleeping child, who, having seen familiar landscapes, immediately crushed. It seemed to be the tension of the day. When my grandmother called me and told me I was alive, I don’t remember. (But the next time I came to my grandmother, I didn’t see those mosquitoes again.)
Who the police officer is, I don’t know. It inspired me in faith in people. It’s been 40 years, and I remember it.
Happiness and joy to you!
and all.