⏱ ~3 min reading
There was so much snow in the park that the pine trees stood in white coats. The hill was full of children since morning — in colorful jackets, with plastic sleds, with cardboard boards. Some in woolen hats with pompoms. Some without hats — their ears are red, their mother is calling something from afar.
Ivanko came with his dad. In his hands was a blue bagel-sled. His heart was pounding with impatience - he wanted to go straight to the top and then straight down.
But there was already a line on the hill. A tiny, quiet line of six children. And three more at the very bottom were collecting sleds.
— Dad, I want it now.
"Everyone wants it, son. Get in line.".
Ivanko stood up. At first, impatiently. He shifted from foot to foot. The snow crunched under his boots. Laughter could be heard from afar—someone had come down and was shouting "hurray.".
A girl in a purple jacket stood in front of him. She was holding a green plastic board. Ivanko couldn't resist:
— Have you been here long?
— Five minutes.
"Did you see that boy in red fall?"
"I saw it. He wasn't crying, he was just laughing.".
— Are you leaving soon?
— It depends on how I push.
The queue moved a little. The girl said her name was Olena. She said her older brother had lent her the board because her sled had cracked last week. Ivanko said his bagel was inflatable, that his dad had spent a long time inflating it, and that his dad had fallen on the ice on the way here, but he got up and laughed.
The line moved again. Now Olena was standing first. She looked at Ivanko:
"Would you like to go out with me? On a bagel.".
— Is it possible?
"If your dad allows it.".
Dad nodded over his shoulder.
They sat on the bagel together — Olena in front, Ivanko behind, wrapping her arms around her. Someone from behind gave them a little push — and the bagel rushed down. Snow flew in their faces. Cold, like ice water. Ivanko shouted «hurray» and Olena shouted «hurray» and somewhere above, dad laughed, his hands clasped together like a trumpet.
Below they fell into a soft snowdrift. Ivanko was covered in snow—up his sleeves, down his collar, down his boots. But he was laughing.
Elena stood up first. She held out her hand to him.
— Shall we go again?
— Let's go.
They stood in line again. And stood again. But for some reason — Ivanko noticed it — the wait no longer scratched inside. It was its own. Its own place in the white light of the park — between the slide and the laughter.
On the way home, Dad carried a bagel under his arm.
— Did you like it?
— I liked it.
— What is the biggest?
Ivanko thought.
— The way Olena and I stood and waited. Because we became friends then.
Dad smiled out of the corners of his eyes.
"You see, son. Sometimes the best things happen while you're waiting.".
💡 Waiting your turn is also part of the game.