I ask for silence! With a loud voice, a young girl cried. She was 18, she was a student, a comsomol and just a beauty. It was the end of the 60s, or maybe the beginning of the 70s.She waited until the group was humbled and continued:
“Now we’ll all go to the station and collect the empty bottles!
The group disapproved, future lawyers were first-class students and did not think of wasting their time on any kind of stuff.
Then I will go alone and let you be ashamed!
Not all, but most have responded to her call.

The next day, at the end of the class, solemnly, in the presence of the whole group, she handed a new, snow-white, carefully wrapped in paper, shirt to the boy Beck.
“Hold on, Beckthorn, it’s a gift for you from all of us.
Becca turned red, smiled, whispered “thank you” to everyone who congratulated him and suddenly, suddenly, crushing everyone, ran out of the classroom...The group watched him out of the window as he quickly walked through the Oak Avenue, tightly pressing a clamp to his chest and wiping out his disobedient tears from shame or happiness. This was his first shirt in life.

The eighth of March 1998 began as usual, I was preparing breakfast for my wife, and then we went together to my aunt to the court to congratulate her on the holiday. By our arrival her office was already full of flowers and postcards. I walked entrepreneurially between them, choosing the bouquets I liked (so many women still need to congratulate). Here I got a beautiful bouquet with a card "from Becky".
Who is this, Becca?
This is the prosecutor of one city, we studied together at the institute.
- Good bouquet, I'll take it? I have to congratulate the crowd of women today.
Take of course.
Can this and that?
and Berry...

Later, the wife told the story about Becca and added that every year, as long as she remembers herself, on March 8, the aunt receives a bouquet of roses and a card "from Becky".
27 October 2014.