Paper

Paper

I gave Olga a pen and a piece of paper. That’s the only way how to entertain a seven-year-old. “But what do I draw?” She asked innocently.

“Anything you like!” I answered.

“I could write you a letter.”

“That’s the best idea. Please do!” I was delighted.

She sat there for a few minutes, going through ideas and thoughts she wanted to write to me about. She didn’t write a word.

“What’s the matter,¬†sweetheart?” I asked.

“I don’t know what to write in my letter.”

“It could be anything. Anything at all.”

She rested her chin on her hand and looked into the space in front of her. She was thinking. And she was very puzzled.

“Do you know what a letter is?” I asked her.

“No.” She said honestly.

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