On principle, I eat cherries with the pits.
This bad habit comes from my childhood. In our garden near the Black Sea there
grew a large cherry-tree. In summertime, me and my brother could not wait to
see the cherries ripe, and we ate them almost green high up in the tree like monkeys.
And the pits we spat out fell onto the ground. And it was these pits that
betrayed us. Since that time I swallow cherries with the pits and I like it...
more ...
On principle, I eat cherries with the pits.
This bad habit comes from my childhood. In our garden near the Black Sea there
grew a large cherry-tree. In summertime, me and my brother could not wait to
see the cherries ripe, and we ate them almost green high up in the tree like monkeys.
And the pits we spat out fell onto the ground. And it was these pits that
betrayed us. Since that time I swallow cherries with the pits and I like it.
In the convalescent home for polio children
in the small town of Železnice, where I have been taking my son for almost
seven years, an immense cherry-tree grows. When its fruit begins to ripen I
watch "our" children in wheelchairs under the tree. Their friends,
who can walk better, bravely climb the tree, picking cherries for them and scaring
the birds away. When the bold robbery ends with a doctor coming along, not a
pit is left on the ground...
