My grandmother is nothing else but the fairytale hero of my childhood—she is the personification of those joyful days. Mom and dad, of course, also loved me a lot, but they could not constantly be around like her: the wise keeper of warmth and care who gave me the happiest childhood, in fact, without using any secret magic.

Another ordinary November evening—a five-year-old girl with two fair-haired pigtails sits in front of the cold glass of the window and looks with her naive brown eyes at the shining expanses of snow smoothly disappearing into continuous darkness. She is waiting. She waits naively and senselessly, the girl does not realize that the windows are facing the wrong side, where—according to her idea—the cherished dark blue Toyota is about to come, always bringing with it mom and dad.

At this time, all the other small children have been sleeping for a long time, but the girl does not even yawn. She seriously continues to look into the darkness outside of the window, and at the very moment when it was already possible to surrender with dignity, exactly at this moment and not even a little earlier, the noise of the tap in the kitchen ceases and the girl remembers.

You don't even need to run to the kitchen, you just have to think about it – and now her shoulders are already hugged by large, warm, laundry soap smelling, and very precious to her heart hands. An instant change of scenery , the kitchen, the face that is pleasantly burned by the steam of hot tea with milk and sugar, a special grandmother's tea with the majestic name "Plombir".

The same big warm hands carefully pour a sundae into a saucer to cool down faster. And then the fun begins ... grandmother Lucy and five-year-old Sonya turn into old drinking companions ready to get drunk with tea. This simple game invented by my grandmother was surprisingly addictive, and it was not possible to get out of it—back into the ordinary world—until both the mug and the saucer of tea were empty.

Over mugs of tea, all the most important topics of the day were discussed with interest: the replenishment of the collection of candy wrappers, a new house for dolls, and even tomorrow's lunch. Such intimate conversations, by tradition, smoothly turned into songs. How clearly that voice cut into the memory of a little girl for the rest of her life: deep, melodic and instantly soothing… in one word: GRANDMA’S.

And Lord, how much there was in that very word! It absorbed, one could literally drown in it in comfort, which little Sonya immediately did. There, on the kitchen sofa, in the arms of her fairy-tale keeper, little Sonya slept comfortable with a smile on her face, and she didn't need anything else, only HER. She would not go anywhere, Sonya knew for sure.

P.S. This is a real life story from my childhood, and one of the most bright memories from the wonderful days and evenings spent with my grandmother Lucy. I am incredibly grateful for that special connection she created between us, which we carefully keep till now-days. Unfortunately now I live thousands of kilometers away from her, in another country, and simply can’t describe how much I miss her. No matter how many kilometers separate us now, she remains and will always be my inspiration and support in any challenges of life, even though they became more complex than waiting for parents after work. My dear childhood hero, I would spend billions of evenings with you.

Sofya Baranova is from Russia and currently living in Netherlands and studying in an International School.