I can't describe to you how I feel about my grandfather, maybe its respect, care, happiness, warmth or maybe love, the unending love which was around me all my childhood.I'm thankful for everything that he taught me, and for everything he did. All my life I wasn't paying attention to his bees. I thought it was a game. Just running around hiding from bees so they wouldn't sting yo, helping my granddad to feed the animals. A glass  of warmth milk in the evening was a reward for your 'hard work'.Still now I am dreaming about that, just to get back to those days. Now, when i see my granddad i do not get a glass of warmth milk, but sit on the bench near him, hold his hand and 'listen' to the beauty of the fields that he has. Tell his what is happening and think how it would be good if time froze.The thing about a bee keeper is not so simple. It is not just a simple old man going round and looking after bees. He is blind. Everyday he's going around his small houses and listening if family's are still there, he even knows how many needs to be there. He will always be the strongest man that i Have ever known in my life. The most clever one.


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