18.04.2021

Above God is not read completely. Alexander litvin will not be higher than God. Alexander Litvin about "I will not be higher than God"


Year of publication of the book: 2015

Lytvyn's book "I Will Not Be Higher Than God" was first published in 2015 and is the first work of the author. The work is rather autobiographical and tells how the writer discovered psychic abilities in himself. The work of Alexander Litvin "I will not be higher than God" will be interesting to those who are engaged in introspection and want to learn to see the signs that fate regularly presents.

The plot of the book "I will not be higher than God"

In the book "I will not be higher than God" we can read about the formation of the author as a practicing psychic. From the very beginning of his work, Lytvyn describes his childhood in detail. He emphasizes that all the development that we receive in childhood occurs not thanks to, but rather contrary to the existing system (kindergarten, school, etc.). The psychic is convinced that the most important role for the harmonious development of a person is played by his family. It was from her that the author drew the wisdom that helped him avoid many mistakes in childhood.

The book "I will not be higher than God" tells about how important it is to learn to remember your emotions and, if necessary, reproduce them in your head. This helps to see the logic of events that are taking place at the moment - after all, every today's situation is somehow connected with our past decisions. Surprisingly accurately, the author recalls the seemingly insignificant details of his childhood - a trip with his mother on the bus or the purchase of a washing machine.

The author claims that any other psychic, and Litvinov himself, is not higher than God. Everything in life happens according to a certain logic, and our task is to learn to listen to our inner voice, as indicated by and. This will help you see the entire chain of events. The writer talks about striking events that took place throughout his life (for example, a meeting with a polar wolf). Having built a logical chain, he tells how he managed to interpret such a situation, seeing in it a sign from above. This example and several other events described prove that intuition is one of the most necessary feelings of a person, to which it is vital to listen.

In the work of Alexander Litvin "Not higher than God" we can not read about magic and extrasensory perception in its traditional sense. The author emphasizes that every event is preceded by a sign. Unfortunately, people often do not notice such clues of fate and act rashly. In the book, you will not find a practical guide on how to develop your intuition. Lytvyn simply talks about his experiences so that readers can learn from his mistakes.

At the end of the work, Lytvyn presents his "Happy Life Calendar", which is designed for three months. It contains structured information regarding each individual day. Using such a calendar, you can plan important appointments, purchases or trips.

The author himself recommends not to perceive this work as the ultimate truth. At the beginning of the book, he writes that the reader should treat everything stated as fiction. Then it will be much easier to understand and most importantly accept all the information. Despite the fact that many people do not believe in the existence of psychics, Alexander's work has become quite popular among readers. The text is written in an easy language with a touch of humor, which allows you to immerse yourself in the writer's story as much as possible.

Book "I will not be higher than God" on the site Top books

There are so many people who want to download the book by Alexander Litvin "Higher than God" that this ensured her a high position among. And given the consistently high interest in the work of the psychic Lytvyn, she will more than once be presented among the pages of our site.

Name: I will not be higher than God
Alexander Litvin
Year of writing: 2015
Volume: 270 p. 7 illustrations
Genres: Esotericism / occultism
Read online

A happy person is someone who has found harmony with himself. Knowing our goal, what can make us happy, we ourselves model our future for the better - this is the credo that Alexander Litvin, the winner of the 6th season of the super popular program "Battle of Psychics", is guided by in his life. Although he himself does not like to be called that, preferring the modest name of "probability analyst".

Moving away from television, this famous person focused all his efforts on writing a book for his fans. And this work, titled "I will not be higher than God," became a real bestseller. Thousands of Russian readers found answers to their questions in it, the book helped them to believe in themselves and improve their lives.

This book is autobiographical. The author in his work "I will not be higher than God" describes his childhood, and a very close person for him - his grandmother. It was she who taught the little boy the law of cause-and-effect relationships, taught him to trust his intuition, listen to dreams, decipher dreams and even order them. Even at a very early age, Alexander Litvin showed himself with might and main unusual abilities: it was he who saved himself and his mother from a terrible accident caused by a drunk driver. The author talks about his parents with extraordinary warmth, because he always had a good relationship with them: they never punished the child and always trusted him.

In his book "I will not be higher than God" the writer devotes a lot of time to the law of cause-and-effect relationships. He explains: what we send from the outside does not disappear without a trace. It comes back to us. If you send some kind of evil, the boomerang law is in effect, evil will return to you and you yourself will suffer from it. Good also tends to return. Let not immediately, but after a while, maybe even years later, but it will definitely return. Sometimes even good deeds are able to return through entire generations. Everything that we do good - we do for ourselves, and everything that we do bad - we also do for ourselves. It is these words that run like a red thread throughout the book. Many people are genuinely surprised and do not understand why they are unhappy. And they do not look for the reason in themselves. But maybe you are not giving something to the world, since you are pursued by various failures? Can it be enough to splash out only negative emotions and various negativity into the surrounding reality?

In the work "I will not be higher than God" the author touches upon very important issues, for example, the discrepancy between the external appearance and the internal content. Not all is gold that glitters, - Alexander Litvin realized this in his distant childhood. Very often, a not very attractive person looks like kind heart, and when you start talking to him, you realize how beautiful he is. And vice versa: a handsome person outwardly turns out to be stupid, or even evil, showing uncontrollable aggression. In this work, the author touches on many topical issues on the topic of religion and many others. After reading this book, you will learn to live in harmony with yourself and your own conscience, all negativity will go away from your life if you follow the advice of this amazing person. Listen to your intuition and your heart - they will never let you down.

On our literary site vsebooks.ru you can download for free the book by Alexander Litvin "I will not be higher than God" in a suitable format for different devices: epub, fb2, txt, rtf. The book is the best teacher, friend and companion. It contains the secrets of the Universe, man's riddles and answers to any questions. We have collected the best representatives of both foreign and domestic literature, classic and modern books, publications on psychology and self-development, fairy tales for children and work exclusively for adults. Everyone will find here exactly what will give a lot of pleasant moments.

Alexander Litvin

I will not be higher than God

DO NOT TAKE THIS BOOK SERIOUSLY, THINK IT IS FANTASTIC, THEN YOU WILL EASIER TO BELIEVE

Dedicated to my first wife Natalia

The word designation "Alexander Litvin", "Alexander Litvin's Laboratory", "Happy Life Calendar from Alexander Litvin" are registered trademarks. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever without the written permission of the copyright holders.

© Litvin A.

© AST Publishing House LLC

2008 year. Autumn

We're making plans. Plans are building us.

In an instant, my life and the lives of my children changed. It will never be the same. Never. A terrible word. Everything was scheduled. Not fad for fad, but overall the program was clear. Now what ?! It was hard for me. The former customs chief offered to return to work. But I refused. Now you definitely need to be close to your sons. But you can't stay here. We must return to Moscow. Now definitely. We sat silently in the kitchen and drank tea. "Well, what are we going to do?" - I looked at my sons. "And what can you do, dad, we have to go."

I don't know how to work now. How to show what I can do. I feel a lot, but now I just got chopped off. And do I know how to do anything at all? I didn't feel death ... Or didn't I want to admit it to myself? Will I be able to pull myself together and produce a result? Work well when all is well. At that moment it seemed to me that nothing positive in my life was and will not be. Natalia's departure canceled everything. I remembered our life day after day. The memory sharpened and gave now one or another picture from the past, our joys and sorrows, and it was unbearable. In any case, we must act. My guys are still very young, and they should know and see how they should behave. All my relatives have gathered. Everyone was in a depressed mood. The sharp turn in my life could not but affect the life of my family. Everyone was expecting a change. I said that we were flying to Moscow. I never told anyone about my real goal. A secret is a secret.

We returned to the capital. Despite the fact that youngest son there was a place in the university dormitory, I did not let him go there. For now, we'll all be together, and then we'll see. It will be easier for the three of us, and there, in a hostel, with unfamiliar people, he will be left alone with grief. Yes, and I will be calmer when he is in front of my eyes. New town, new people. We began to live in a new way, and I completely forgot that I am 48 years old. There are a lot of things ahead. You just need to get together and have time to do as much as possible.

Marina called late at night. Her voice was not as cheerful as usual. She was extremely polite and laconic: "Test tomorrow." At the appointed time, I arrived at the agreed place. The usually noisy project members and crew members were quiet. A girl named Olga, some kind of chief administrator, came up to me. She spoke words of condolence, she was worried. It looks like she had no such experience. And it's good that it wasn't. And I had it, and it made me feel bad. She said something else, I nodded to her, and I myself thought about this experience. Why do I need him? Such a cruel test, why do my children need it? I know that everything in the world is arranged justly, but in terms of time, this justice sometimes does not fit into the framework of the life of one person. But then these were thoughts, just thoughts with which I tried to somehow collect myself. Olga asked if I was ready for work. I did not know. My readiness will be determined there, at the test.

Trial. After Natalya left, this word, so often used in the project, no longer seemed so serious to me. A test is when your children suffer from the fact that they have lost their mother, and you cannot replace her with them. And here is work. My job I have to do. There are more than enough incentives. The title of the project contains the word "battle". For me, she will be the most real. I will beat my doubt, I will persuade him, I will send spies and scouts to him, but I will break it. I promised.

I am five years old. My mother and I are standing at a bus stop on Lenin Street. There is a huge temple across the road. St. Michael's Cathedral. He's up to the sky, he is incredibly handsome and he is very sad. "Mom, why is there a cross at the top, is that an antenna?" Mom smiled: "Maybe the antenna ..."

I stood and looked at this temple, and its height made me dizzy. It was a very interesting feeling, and I tried to remember it. Much later, I began to do this consciously: remember your emotions and periodically recall them, in the meantime, I just stood and absorbed this new sensation for me.

A bus came up. We got into it and drove to the city center. There was a bus station right next to the central market, or in a simple way - the bazaar. There were many platforms, buses were overcrowded, and they came and went on schedule. Here in such a bus, crowded with people on the third route, we drove up to our platform. We were standing in the center of the cabin, I was holding my mother's hand - I remember that for sure: it was not me who was being held, but I was holding. Mom was about to go to the front door, but I, clutching at Mom, put my feet on the floor covered with black corrugated rubber, and pulled Mom back with all my strength. She looked at me in bewilderment, realized that I was not going to give in, shrugged her shoulders, and followed me.

At the very moment when we were leaving the back door of the bus, a truck crashed into the front door at great speed. I was small and did not see him fly behind the backs of adults. Something blue flashed over the crowd. Simultaneous cry of many people and ... deathly silence. One of the men standing on the platform ran up to the Emka's cockpit, opened the door, and a completely drunk driver fell out of it. He was not unconscious - he was just insane. “Mom, is he crazy ?! Do crazy people look like that ?! "

Something blue that flashed over the crowd turned out to be a little girl wrapped in a blue diaper. Her dad came out of the front door of the bus and, being right in front of a racing car, managed to save his child by throwing him into the crowd. He was also lucky, he survived, only got a fractured hip and ribs. I know this man, he lives not far from my parents.

As an adult, I tried to analyze exactly what I felt when I hit the floor of the bus. I was never capricious, I always obeyed my elders, I did not throw hysterics, but something unusual happened to me - I became the main one. More important than mom! And I was able to drag her in the right direction. I don’t remember those feelings now - the catastrophe ousted everything, becoming the dominant, but the fact that the decision was made spontaneously and instantly, I remember well.

My earliest memories date back to 1963, that is, to the age of three. I remember very well the day when my mother bought the Zarya washing machine. It was the first word that I read in my life, and I remember it. Mom brought the typewriter on a cart. The cart was real, made of wood. A coachman or a cabman, I don’t know what to call this unknown age of a peasant in a tarpaulin raincoat, helped my mother unload the car and bring it into the house. I don't know why, but I decided that his name was Kuzma. And so it turned out - his name was Kuzma, and he was very surprised how I knew him. And I just said and that's it, without thinking at all why. Now I understand: this name suited him!

I remember my mother's face. In those days, the washing machine was the embodiment of real little happiness, and I was also in this happy cloud. This is probably why I remembered it. So my first memory is connected with happiness! And even if it is caused by the fact that my mother bought a washing machine - it does not really matter! Happinnes exists! Happiness is here and now!

Why is a boot called a boot? I asked myself this question when I was 5 years old. Why exactly this way and not otherwise? The adults couldn't answer me. A common childish question. Why this or that object is given one name or another is understandable, but why this particular combination of sounds - I was very curious! In essence, it was with these questions that I began to learn about the world.

My childhood was not distinguished by the richness of events. As my parents say, I didn't bother them too much, and my grandfather was sometimes amazed that I grew up without creating problems.

- Do you ever take this child in your arms? - he asked my mom and dad.

- No, we don't. He doesn't cry or ask. He goes about his business.

I really went about my business and I never got bored. I didn’t like to attract the attention of adults. I loved listening. I listened to everything people say. He understood something, did not understand something, but somehow guessed about the meaning. I rarely asked questions. There was no one to ask them. Then I knew less than now, but I had one knowledge from birth and forever: no one will answer me my most important questions. But nevertheless I tried to find answers.

Alexander Litvin

I will not be higher than God

I will not be higher than God
Alexander Litvin

I am Alexander Litvin. My name is familiar to you from the program "The Battle of Psychics". I became the winner of the sixth season and ... I consider this topic closed. I don't think my ability is a miracle or a special talent. And I don't really like the word "psychic" because of the associations and stereotypes. Rather, the "analyst of probabilities" is closer to me. I have no special gift. My gift is solely that I believe in myself. And no one can take away faith. Intuition, which is in the last place in the hierarchy of feelings, I would put first. All other feelings are important, but they are only an addition to her. I told my story, including so that you learn how to hear intuition, how the sixth sense works!

Second revised edition

Alexander Litvin

I will not be higher than God

© Litvin A.

© AST Publishing House LLC

Do not take this book seriously, think that it is fantastic, then it will be easier for you to believe

Dedicated to my first wife Natalia

2008 year. Autumn

We're making plans. Plans are building us.

In an instant, my life and the lives of my children changed. It will never be the same. Never. A terrible word.

Everything was scheduled. Not fad for fad, but overall the program was clear. Now what ?! It was hard for me. The former customs chief offered to return to work. But I refused. Now you definitely need to be close to your sons. But you can't stay here. We must return to Moscow. Now definitely. We sat silently in the kitchen and drank tea. "Well, what are we going to do?" - I looked at my sons. "And what can you do, dad, we have to go."

I don't know how to work now. How to show what I can do. I feel a lot, but now I just got chopped off. And do I know how to do anything at all? I didn't feel death ... Or didn't I want to admit it to myself? Will I be able to pull myself together and produce a result? Work well when all is well. At that moment it seemed to me that nothing positive in my life was and will not be.

Natalia's departure canceled everything. I remembered our life day after day. The memory sharpened and gave now one or another picture from the past, our joys and sorrows, and it was unbearable. In any case, we must act. My guys are still very young, and they should know and see how they should behave. All my relatives have gathered. Everyone was in a depressed mood. The sharp turn in my life could not but affect the life of my family. Everyone was expecting a change. I said that we were flying to Moscow. I never told anyone about my real goal. A secret is a secret.

We returned to the capital. Despite the fact that the youngest son had a place in the university dormitory, I did not let him go there. For now, we'll all be together, and then we'll see. It will be easier for the three of us, and there, in a hostel, with unfamiliar people, he will be left alone with grief. Yes, and I will be calmer when he is in front of my eyes.

New city, new people. We began to live in a new way, and I completely forgot that I am 48 years old. There are a lot of things ahead. You just need to get together and have time to do as much as possible.

Marina called late at night. Her voice was not as cheerful as usual. She was extremely polite and laconic: "Test tomorrow." At the appointed time, I arrived at the agreed place. The usually noisy project members and crew members were quiet. A girl named Olga, some kind of chief administrator, came up to me. She spoke words of condolence, she was worried. It looks like she had no such experience. And it's good that it wasn't. And I had it, and it made me feel bad. She said something else, I nodded to her, and I myself thought about this experience. Why do I need him? Such a cruel test, why do my children need it? I know that everything in the world is arranged justly, but in terms of time, this justice sometimes does not fit into the framework of the life of one person. But then these were thoughts, just thoughts with which I tried to somehow collect myself. Olga asked if I was ready for work. I did not know. My readiness will be determined there, at the test.

Trial. After Natalya left, this word, so often used in the project, no longer seemed so serious to me. A test is when your children suffer from the fact that they have lost their mother, and you cannot replace her with them. And here is work. My job I have to do. There are more than enough incentives. The title of the project contains the word "battle". For me, she will be the most real. I will beat my doubt, I will persuade him, I will send spies and scouts to him, but I will break it. I promised.

I am five years old. My mother and I are standing at a bus stop on Lenin Street. There is a huge temple across the road. St. Michael's Cathedral. He's up to the sky, he is incredibly handsome and he is very sad. "Mom, why is there a cross at the top, is that an antenna?" Mom smiled: "Maybe an antenna ...".

I stood and looked at this temple, and its height made me dizzy. It was a very interesting feeling, and I tried to remember it. Much later, I began to do this consciously: remember my emotions and periodically recall them, but for now I just stood there and absorbed this new sensation for me.

A bus came up. We got into it and drove to the city center. The bus station was located near the central market. The buses were overcrowded, they came and went on schedule. Here in such a bus, crowded with people on the third route, we drove up to our platform.

We were standing in the center of the cabin, I was holding my mother's hand - I remember that for sure: it was not me who was being held, but I was holding. Mom was about to go to the front door, but I, clutching at Mom, put my feet on the floor covered with black corrugated rubber, and pulled Mom back with all my strength. She looked at me in bewilderment, realized that I was not going to give in, shrugged her shoulders, and followed me.

At the very moment when we were leaving the back door of the bus, a truck crashed into the front door at great speed. I was small and did not see him fly behind the backs of adults. Something blue flashed over the crowd. Simultaneous cry of many people and ... deathly silence. One of the men standing on the platform ran up to the Emka's cockpit, opened the door, and a completely drunk driver fell out of it. He was not unconscious - he was just insane. “Mom, is he crazy ?! Do crazy people look like that ?! "

Something blue that flashed over the crowd turned out to be a little girl wrapped in a blue diaper. Her dad came out of the front door of the bus and, being right in front of a racing car, managed to save his child by throwing him into the crowd. He was also lucky, he survived, only got a fractured hip and ribs. I know this man, he lives not far from my parents.

As an adult, I tried to analyze exactly what I felt when I hit the floor of the bus. I was never capricious, I always obeyed my elders, I did not throw hysterics, but something unusual happened to me - I became the main one. More important than mom! And I was able to drag her in the right direction. I don’t remember those feelings now - the catastrophe ousted everything, becoming the dominant, but the fact that the decision was made spontaneously and instantly, I remember well.

My earliest memories date back to 1963, that is, to the age of three. I remember very well the day when my mother bought the Zarya washing machine. It was the first word that I read in my life, and I remember it.

Mom brought the typewriter on a cart. The cart was real, made of wood. A coachman or a cabman, I don’t know what to call this unknown age of a peasant in a tarpaulin raincoat, helped my mother bring the car into the house. I don't know why, but I decided that his name was Kuzma. And so it turned out. And he was very surprised how I knew him. And I just said and that's it, without thinking at all why. Now I understand: this name suited him!

I remember my mother's face. In those days, the washing machine was the embodiment of real little happiness, and I was also in this happy cloud. This is probably why I remembered it. So my first memory is related to happiness! And even if it is caused by the fact that my mother bought a washing machine - it does not really matter! Happinnes exists! Happiness is here and now!

Why is a boot called a boot? I asked myself this question when I was 5 years old. Why exactly this way and not otherwise?

The adults couldn't answer me. A common childish question. Why this or that object is given one name or another is understandable, but why this particular combination of sounds - I was very curious! In essence, it was with these questions that I began to learn about the world.

My childhood was not distinguished by the richness of events. As my parents say, I didn't bother them too much, and my grandfather was sometimes amazed that I grew up without creating problems.

- Do you ever take this child in your arms? - he asked my mom and dad.

- No, we don't. He doesn't cry or ask. He goes about his business.

I really went about my business and I never got bored. I did not like to attract the attention of adults. I loved listening. I listened to everything people say. He understood something, did not understand something, but somehow guessed about the meaning. I rarely asked questions. There was no one to ask them. Then I knew less than now, but I had one knowledge from birth and forever: no one will answer me to my most important questions. But nevertheless I tried to find answers.

With age, the feeling of understanding the world began to change: I am growing, and I receive more and more information, but this volume further and further pushes me away from knowledge. The more I learned, the more questions there were! As a child, there are fewer doubts, and I thought that the more I learned, the fewer blank spots there would be. I was wrong. Now I understand that I was wrong, but then I was just studying this world. Probably because of this, he began to read early. I suddenly realized that these little icons - letters - would allow me to get the information I needed.

Mom taught me to read. Somehow imperceptibly letter by letter by the age of five I already read well, and I was terribly bored in the first grade. I still remember: my reading speed was one hundred and eighty words per minute - at the level of a 5th grade student, and there was not much point in repeating these endless "ah ... beh ... veh ...", which my classmates muttered, for whom The Primer was a real discovery. My neighbor raised her hand, the teacher drew attention to her: "And Shurik is reading!" The teacher came up to me: "What are you reading, Shurik?" I pulled out from under my desk Fenimore Cooper's book The Last of the Mohicans. I was not scared, I was upset - the book was very interesting, and I had only three or four pages to finish reading to the end. The teacher asked where I was staying, I showed.

- Interesting?

- Yes very.

- Do you have anyone at home now?

- Yes mom. She's the second today ...

Mom worked in shifts at the plant. But the word "change" was never spoken. In the first or second - and everything was clear to everyone.

- Go home!

I walked and tried to figure out: I was kicked out of class or released because I don't need to study this subject? The very possibility of not going to school did not fit into my head, because I knew: everyone should go to school and sit there for a certain time. And I decided that I was kicked out! When my mother asked why I came so early, I replied that I had a stomach ache. Mom was worried, but I said, "Don't worry, while I was walking home, everything was over." I didn't think I was wrong not to tell my mother the truth. It seemed to me that if I start to reason and demand some preferences for myself, I will make my parents worry about trifles, and they have a mouthful of worries without me. Therefore, in fact, I came up with a sore stomach.

I was never released from the reading lesson, and I continued to suffer from idleness, since I practically stopped reading in the lessons. And at recess I really wanted to run. I was running and from time to time I ran into something or someone, but once they ran into me. They crashed so hard that I got off the ground, flew at least a meter, and hit the Pioneers Heroes stand with a bang. Each photograph of the young hero was covered with glass. Since there were many heroes, there were many pieces of glass, and they all shattered into small fragments. The battering ram, who threw me on the wall, safely proceeded along the school corridor, knocking down everyone and everything, and I, from the blow, lost control of my own breathing, squatted right in the epicenter of the destruction of the heroic stand.

Alexander Litvin

I will not be higher than God

© Litvin A.

© AST Publishing House LLC

Do not take this book seriously, think that it is fantastic, then it will be easier for you to believe

Dedicated to my first wife Natalia

2008 year. Autumn

We're making plans. Plans are building us.

In an instant, my life and the lives of my children changed. It will never be the same. Never. A terrible word.

Everything was scheduled. Not fad for fad, but overall the program was clear. Now what ?! It was hard for me. The former customs chief offered to return to work. But I refused. Now you definitely need to be close to your sons. But you can't stay here. We must return to Moscow. Now definitely. We sat silently in the kitchen and drank tea. "Well, what are we going to do?" - I looked at my sons. "And what can you do, dad, we have to go."

I don't know how to work now. How to show what I can do. I feel a lot, but now I just got chopped off. And do I know how to do anything at all? I didn't feel death ... Or didn't I want to admit it to myself? Will I be able to pull myself together and produce a result? Work well when all is well. At that moment it seemed to me that nothing positive in my life was and will not be.

Natalia's departure canceled everything. I remembered our life day after day. The memory sharpened and gave now one or another picture from the past, our joys and sorrows, and it was unbearable. In any case, we must act. My guys are still very young, and they should know and see how they should behave. All my relatives have gathered. Everyone was in a depressed mood. The sharp turn in my life could not but affect the life of my family. Everyone was expecting a change. I said that we were flying to Moscow. I never told anyone about my real goal. A secret is a secret.

We returned to the capital. Despite the fact that the youngest son had a place in the university dormitory, I did not let him go there. For now, we'll all be together, and then we'll see. It will be easier for the three of us, and there, in a hostel, with unfamiliar people, he will be left alone with grief. Yes, and I will be calmer when he is in front of my eyes.

New city, new people. We began to live in a new way, and I completely forgot that I am 48 years old. There are a lot of things ahead. You just need to get together and have time to do as much as possible.

Marina called late at night. Her voice was not as cheerful as usual. She was extremely polite and laconic: "Test tomorrow." At the appointed time, I arrived at the agreed place. The usually noisy project members and crew members were quiet. A girl named Olga, some kind of chief administrator, came up to me. She spoke words of condolence, she was worried. It looks like she had no such experience. And it's good that it wasn't. And I had it, and it made me feel bad. She said something else, I nodded to her, and I myself thought about this experience. Why do I need him? Such a cruel test, why do my children need it? I know that everything in the world is arranged justly, but in terms of time, this justice sometimes does not fit into the framework of the life of one person. But then these were thoughts, just thoughts with which I tried to somehow collect myself. Olga asked if I was ready for work. I did not know. My readiness will be determined there, at the test.

Trial. After Natalya left, this word, so often used in the project, no longer seemed so serious to me. A test is when your children suffer from the fact that they have lost their mother, and you cannot replace her with them. And here is work. My job I have to do. There are more than enough incentives. The title of the project contains the word "battle". For me, she will be the most real. I will beat my doubt, I will persuade him, I will send spies and scouts to him, but I will break it. I promised.

I am five years old. My mother and I are standing at a bus stop on Lenin Street. There is a huge temple across the road. St. Michael's Cathedral. He's up to the sky, he is incredibly handsome and he is very sad. "Mom, why is there a cross at the top, is that an antenna?" Mom smiled: "Maybe an antenna ...".

I stood and looked at this temple, and its height made me dizzy. It was a very interesting feeling, and I tried to remember it. Much later, I began to do this consciously: remember your emotions and periodically recall them, in the meantime, I just stood and absorbed this new sensation for me.

A bus came up. We got into it and drove to the city center. The bus station was located near the central market. The buses were overcrowded, they came and went on schedule. Here in such a bus, crowded with people on the third route, we drove up to our platform.

We were standing in the center of the cabin, I was holding my mother's hand - I remember that for sure: it was not me who was being held, but I was holding. Mom was about to go to the front door, but I, clutching at Mom, put my feet on the floor covered with black corrugated rubber, and pulled Mom back with all my strength. She looked at me in bewilderment, realized that I was not going to give in, shrugged her shoulders, and followed me.

At the very moment when we were leaving the back door of the bus, a truck crashed into the front door at great speed. I was small and did not see him fly behind the backs of adults. Something blue flashed over the crowd. Simultaneous cry of many people and ... deathly silence. One of the men standing on the platform ran up to the Emka's cockpit, opened the door, and a completely drunk driver fell out of it. He was not unconscious - he was just insane. “Mom, is he crazy ?! Do crazy people look like that ?! "

Something blue that flashed over the crowd turned out to be a little girl wrapped in a blue diaper. Her dad came out of the front door of the bus and, being right in front of a racing car, managed to save his child by throwing him into the crowd. He was also lucky, he survived, only got a fractured hip and ribs. I know this man, he lives not far from my parents.

As an adult, I tried to analyze exactly what I felt when I hit the floor of the bus. I was never capricious, I always obeyed my elders, I did not throw hysterics, but something unusual happened to me - I became the main one. More important than mom! And I was able to drag her in the right direction. I don't remember now those feelings of mine - the catastrophe ousted everything, becoming a dominant, but the fact that the decision was made spontaneously and instantly, I remember well.

My earliest memories date back to 1963, that is, to the age of three. I remember very well the day when my mother bought the Zarya washing machine. It was the first word that I read in my life, and I remember it.

Mom brought the typewriter on a cart. The cart was real, made of wood. A coachman or a cabman, I don’t know what to call this unknown age of a peasant in a tarpaulin raincoat, helped my mother bring the car into the house. I don't know why, but I decided that his name was Kuzma. And so it turned out. And he was very surprised how I knew him. And I just said and that's it, without thinking at all why. Now I understand: this name suited him!

I remember my mother's face. In those days, the washing machine was the embodiment of real little happiness, and I was also in this happy cloud. This is probably why I remembered it. So my first memory is connected with happiness! And even if it is caused by the fact that my mother bought a washing machine - it does not really matter! Happinnes exists! Happiness is here and now!

Why is a boot called a boot? I asked myself this question when I was 5 years old. Why exactly this way and not otherwise?