⏱ ~4 min reading
For Tarasyk's birthday, they gave him a big construction set. Not a small one, but a real one, with a bunch of parts. In the box was a picture of how to assemble a castle. With towers. With walls. With a drawbridge. With a little knight in silver armor.
Tarasyk's mouth dropped open when he saw it. He immediately dumped all the parts on the living room carpet and started building.
The first walls came together quickly. Tarasyk attached part by part, looked at the instructions, and looked for the right bricks.
An hour later, the foundation was in place. Two hours later, the walls were going up.
Tarasik ate lunch while looking at his construction.
After lunch he started making the tower. The tower was complicated. You had to place the small bricks on top of each other very carefully, otherwise they would fall apart.
Tarasyk made a mistake. He took it apart. He put it back together. He made a mistake again.
I heard outside: my friends were calling. They wanted to play ball.
Tarasik looked at his half of the castle. He stood up.
— I'll get it later.
He ran out into the yard.
We played for a long time - until the evening. I came home tired, dirty. I had dinner quickly. I sat down to watch cartoons.
Forgot about the castle.
The next morning, Tarasyk ran to his friend's place to ride his bike.
Then — to the pool with dad.
Then — play with the neighbor's cat.
A week passed like that.
One Sunday, my mother was cleaning the living room. She lifted half of Tarasyk's castle from the carpet—walls without a roof, one tower unfinished, the second not even begun.
"Tarasik," she called from the living room. "What should we do with him?"
Tarasik came in. He looked. He wrinkled his nose.
"Yeah... let's sort it out. I don't remember where everything goes anymore.".
Mom didn't answer right away. She sat down on the carpet next to the designer. She looked at her son carefully.
— Do you feel sorry for him?
Tarasyk shrugged his shoulders.
"Not really. Well, let it be. I'll get another one.".
Mom was silent. Then she said quietly:
"You know, son. I'm thinking about something right now. You and I did something nice a week ago. Half the castle. How long did it take you to build it?"
— Well… half a day.
— And if you take it apart, all the time spent will be taken away with it. And your work will be lost.
Tarasik thought.
— What if I collect the other half?
Mom smiled.
"Then you'll have a whole castle. With towers. With a bridge. With a knight. And you can play with it as much as you want.".
Tarasik looked at the designer for a long time. Then he squatted down.
— Bring the instructions.
Mom brought the instructions. She sat down next to me on the carpet.
— Help?
"Yes. Find me some gray bricks. Small ones.".
They worked together. Mom would provide the parts, Tarasik would fix them. The first tower went up slowly, but this time — without mistakes. Tarasik learned to place the bricks so that the tower wouldn't wobble.
Half an hour later, the first tower stood proudly. On top was a small red flag.
The second tower went easier. Tarasyk already knew how to do it.
Then — a drawbridge. Tarasik made a small block out of two threads and a tube. The bridge rose and fell.
Then there is the wall around the castle courtyard.
When everything was ready, Tarasik placed a little knight in armor in the yard. The knight stood with his sword at the ready, as if he was about to go on a campaign.
Tarasik stepped back and looked.
Something in his chest felt tight.
— Mom.
— What, son?
"It's cool. A whole castle. Like the real thing.".
— Whole, because you completed it.
Tarasik nodded.
The castle lived on his shelf for a long time. Tarasik played with it every day - he would roll a knight, lower a bridge, and invent battles with dragons.
And when his mother sometimes asked why he loved this particular castle so much, Tarasyk would answer:
"Because it's mine. I finished it.".
And mom understood: what is finished to the end becomes yours forever.
💡 What has already begun should be completed to the last detail.