JMPH /BOOK: RIGHT IN THE GRASS / Marcel Páleš & Michal Várošík
JMPH /BOOK: RIGHT IN THE GRASS / ROVNO V TRÁVE / Marcel Páleš & Michal Várošík
The publication of the book
was financially supported by:
By publishing this book, the authors decided to help the family of young Lukáš Amrich, who is in a waking coma after a serious car accident, and his specialized treatment is financially demanding.
In a picturesque village in the garden...
In a picturesque village in the garden, of my great life known friend named Kristina, where our lives and life stories together with our families began to write history almost 40 years ago, new essences of shifts in our lives, and the sharing of mutual knowledge are emerging.
One of our sharings is this inspiring book and personal knowledge of one of the authors named Michal Várošík, as a personality with a creative soul and a flourishing life story.
The picturesque village connects all three of us and is also part of some of the author's short stories as a well of creativity and sharing of human values.
...by Yarmila Neuschlova
Sample 1 of the short stories, page 124 - 126 from the book RIGHT IN THE GRASS...
Hope, believe, endure
"Hold on, my dear! Without training and a strong will, you just won't make it anywhere!" remarked the old woman looking at the black and white photos on the old chest of drawers. The golden haired girl with small braids took her hands off the piano and turned around.
"Right, but let's take a little break! I'm thirsty...
Now tell me something about your youth. Dad told me that you also met the famous Smetana! really? Were you teasing me again?" the little blonde with big green eyes looked at the grandmother's gray hair. Looking at the black and white pictures from her life, she got lost in the past for a moment, but then she described everything to her in order.
"No, he didn't pull away from you, Adelka. You know, when I was young, my parents died and I didn't have anyone here in Slovakia. That's why I was drawn to Prague for a few years.
He wasn't rich, that's why I worked as a maid. I cleaned and took care of children in a rich family. The master often talked to his guests about Smetana.
They respected him. The famous musical giant represented a well-known personality in Prague at that time, against whom many fought out of envy.
They made his artistic journey difficult for him with intrigues and mean deeds. He had a really hard time and yet he created immortal works. After all, you know and admire them yourself..." she interrupted her conversation for a moment and her gaze strayed to the piano, which had been worn out over the years, then to her granddaughter.
"Interesting! But how was the meeting with him?" the girl returned it. The old woman's narration captivated her and reminded her of the engaging stories of their teacher.
" When I had free time, I liked to go to the Vltava. I walked there and admired the surroundings. Smetana was also attracted there. He went to the Vltava regularly and alone.
Apparently, he liked to create. People knew him, greeted him wildly and whispered about him. I was only 17 and he was already 50, when one day during my free time I sadly stopped at the Charles Bridge and looked at the Vltava from there. I was worried that my big dream would probably never come true.
I wanted to grow flowers and have a small flower shop.
But after the death of my parents, I became just a maid. An ordinary maid...Without money, without a future..." she stopped talking for a moment and was lost in memory again. she continued.
"Well, as I was looking thoughtfully at the huge river, he passed by me. Also serious and thoughtful.
I knew he was sick of all the hostile slaughter of his haters. It was a lot for one person. His health was also failing... I looked behind him as he walked calmly, looking at the river and thinking about something. Perhaps over new music about the Czech nation, which will survive and lift people up in the future. And then his pencil fell. He was starting to have hearing problems, so he didn't notice it at all.
I walked up, picked up the pencil, hesitated for a moment whether it was right to go to a strange man and address him... Finally, after catching up with him, I handed it to him. A smile appeared on his serious face. He thanked me and asked me why I was standing there so sad. He caught me by surprise. I always felt so overlooked. My knees were shaking from shame and fear, maybe that's why I confessed to him that recently my life has changed and it seems that my longed-for dream will not come true. He nodded, looked at me, at the bridge, at the wide Vltava and uttered simple words for which I still thank him to this day," the gray-haired woman fell silent again to make sure that the girl was listening to her. Her ears were strained and she was impatiently waiting for the end of the short conversation.
"And what did Smetana tell you?" asked the golden-haired woman, fixing her eyes on the old woman like a believer on a statue of the Virgin Mary. The grandmother was now spotted in a recent photo, in which she is standing in front of her flower shop with close family acquaintances. "You have to hope! Hope for change and be diligent in patience! Obstacles were, are and will be..." quoted Smetana and her eyes glistened.
If you have questions about this blog or the book, please enter your email address and we will contact you back.
EXCEPTIONALISM IS PAVED WITH PRECARIOUS HOT STEPS OF FAME