My former boss was born in the harsh 1936. He is now retired, but during his work together he has told many interesting stories. Today I want to tell you about the one that struck me the most.

The former boss will be called Sanych.

Sanych being a thirteen-year-old boy who, like many Soviet boys, ran to the pond to swim, smoked, worked in the garden and carried out other boys' classes, had a good time to learn. Particularly good was his vocabulary. Sanych’s works the teacher set as an example to everyone and said that he should be equal.

The fame of the great composer reached the high school and one of them, an eight-year-old, offered Sanych a profitable contract - Sanych writes him a work, and in exchange receives an unprecedented award. Sanych wrote a good composition and the eighth-year-old kept his word. He brought a magical notebook. In the notebook there was a method with a description of how to behave with girls to divorce them for sex, what it is and how to practice it. The eighth-year-old explained that the notebook should be kept secret, not shown to anyone, secretly rewritten and returned.

Sanchez did what it was supposed to. The tetrad carefully snugged, rewritten until nobody saw it and returned it to the owner in time. But happiness, when there is no one to share it with, is happiness? He had a good friend, a year older than him. At the same time, the son went to the school, where they both studied. Well, Sanych and showed his companion his treasure. Of course, he asked to rewrite. He took the notebook home, hid it in the wardrobe under the underwear and began to rewrite it slowly and methodically. And first, he delayed the process, and secondly, he chose the unsuccessful place to store the compromise. Mamka-zavoch, digged in a commodity and accidentally found a manuscript. What it started here!

Zavoch held an extraordinary meeting of teachers with the director, where the issue of the local catastrophe, the fall of morals, etc. was discussed, and so on. In the end, the wise director said that the handwriting should be familiar to someone of the teachers. And yes, the teacher of literature only looked and immediately gave out: "That's what Sanych wrote!"

Then there was a heated debate between the public court and its ruling. The child is under strict control and total attention. And Sanycha, as an incitator to illegal activity - from the school and from the ranks of pioneers - down. The academic year is approaching the end, the magazine's assessments allow you to close the year and the last quarter. Thank you, you can’t go to school!

And here Sanych, in full prostration from the situation, lives a few days and at the end of the working week has a serious conversation with his parents. Mom and Dad sat down at the dinner table and said, “Son! While you were a pioneer and studied in school, we kept you investing in your future. Now that you have chosen your own path, you must ensure yourself. Fortunately, five kilometers from the house there is a wonderful brick factory that has a suitable vacancy.

And the next morning, Sanych went to the personnel department and went to work. Since then, every morning, at mid-seventh, he took a snack for lunch and walked on foot to the factory. There were huge furnaces where bricks were burned. At the bottom of the oven there were small passages, where a thirteen-year-old boy could stretch, bending in three folds, to digest the accumulated ashes. The oven was hot, the space was narrow, and the air was filled with the smallest particles of ash. Sanych, all dirty, sweaty and coughing from the flying dust, scratched the cane day after day. Day after day, walking to the factory and back. Friends who rest on summer holidays if they were called to swim in the pond, then only for the weekend.

Sanych worked for four months at the factory and began to think strongly about his difficult fate. His peers are already going to school, and he is still fine, cleaning the roofs along the oven day after day. And somehow it is even scary to think that it will always be so. When you’re thirteen, life ahead seems huge. This is terrible when all this multitude becomes unenlightened and dark.

And one day, Sanych, smelling a cigar at lunch sees history in the newspaper. A schoolboy fell behind, going on a slippery path to the small crime and was excluded from the school and from the ranks of pioneers. But he deeply repented and decided to write a letter to Klim Voroshilov with repentance. Sanich's eyes first opened wide, and then narrowed, greedy looking into the printed letters on the newspaper sheet. There was a weak hope for rehabilitation. Sanych wrote works well, but he never approached the writing of the text with such care as at the time when his further fate was decided. He wrote a letter of repentance to Klim Voroshilov himself.

I wrote, sent and waited. I waited for a few weeks, it was already cold and charged with cold November rains. And here Sanycha is called to the director of the school. He asked about the letter. About what Sanitch was doing apart from school and the collective. And he said that under vigilant supervision, he could be restored to his rights. He may return to school tomorrow.

The factory was finished. Communication with the son of Zavouch was terminated by mutual, silent agreement. The school program has been forced and life has flowed in its turn.