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Or the beauty of poverty.
“We are a generation that will never return….
A generation that walked to and from school.
A generation that, when the teacher sent them to the secretary for chalk,
swelled up as if they were delegates to the United Nations.A generation that learned on its own
and if he didn't understand something, he was "locked up" after the lesson, he had to
stay there and it was explained to him again until he understood.A generation that stood at the blackboard and proudly wrote and answered
in front of .A generation that didn't go to school with cell phones.
A generation whose notes were written in the diary, a
generation which did its homework alone, didn't go to
all kinds of special classes, but compulsory, yet happy, to mass sports,
and didn't call its parents with all its problems, because
the family didn't even have a phone no, often...A generation that was ashamed to sit next to an adult on the bus.
A generation that kissed bread when it got it.
A generation that laughed a lot and quietly with their siblings before going to bed
so that their parents wouldn't know they were awake, and
read with a flashlight under the covers if they couldn't put down the
exciting book even after turning on the light.A generation that respected their parents, teachers or
neighbors very much, and greeted everyone in advance, including their peers,
played in the street and drank water from the well.A generation that loved whatever it found or got and
was satisfied.We are a generation that, unfortunately, will not return! "
Photo: Fortepan
