Sunlight

⏱ ~3 min reading

Marinka was seven. She came to her grandmother's for the weekend. In the morning the living room was quiet - the grandmother was still asleep, the cat was sleeping on the chair, even the walkers were quietly running away. Direct sunlight was streaming in through the window. On the floor - a large yellow stain, like spilled honey.

Marinka sat down on the carpet next to the stain. She looked.

The spot didn't move. Did it move? Marinka squinted. It seemed to be standing still. But its edge just touched the leg of the chair.

Marinka placed a stick — a small one, made from a Christmas tree — on the edge of the stain. She watched.

Five minutes later, the stick was no longer on the edge. The spot had moved to the width of a finger.

How strange. The sun moved. Only slowly. So slowly that the eyes did not notice it.

Marinka put down another stick. Ten minutes later, it also moved.

Grandma came out of the kitchen. She smelled of dill — she had been chopping greens for a salad. She saw Marinka on the floor, with two chopsticks and a serious face.

"What are you doing, swallow?"

— Grandma. The sun is moving.

— Yes. The Earth rotates.

— And I never noticed.

Grandma sat down next to me, on her knees, cautiously—her back hurt. She looked at the floor.

— And I know how to watch the shadow of a pencil. My father once taught me. He says: watch how the shadow moves - and you will truly see time.

"And now you see it too?"

"I see. In an hour, the stain will be there," the grandmother pointed to the leg of the sofa.

"I'll sit here. I'll wait.".

Grandma smiled. She brought a pillow. She brought a cup of warm milk.

"Just don't sit on the floor for too long. It's cold.".

Marinka was sitting on a cushion. She held the cup in both hands. She looked at the stain. The stain slowly crept along. Then it touched the leg of the coffee table. Then it passed the carpet pattern - the sun touched the blue flower, the flower became completely radiant. The cat woke up, saw the stain, and moved to the chair, where it was warmer.

Marinka laughed. The cat also knew about the stain.

Half an hour later, grandma brought a piece of bread and butter.

— What do you see?

— Grandma. I see how the world spins. I used to think it was fast. But it's so slow. And so beautiful.

Grandma sat down next to me. She was holding her cup.

"You know, child. What you're doing now is something only cats can do. And poets.".

— Poets?

— Who write poems. They sit like this and watch. Then the poems come out.

— Am I a poet?

— This morning, yes.

Marinka sat with the stain for almost two hours. The stain reached the leg of the sofa — just like grandma said. Then it started to climb onto the sofa itself — onto the light cushion.

Marinka woke up, as if from a slow sleep. She stood up. Her legs were numb. But inside there was some strange happiness — such, quiet, for no reason.

In the evening, when her mother came to pick her up, Marinka told her about the stain. Her mother smiled.

— Have you been looking at the sun all morning?

— Whole.

— And isn't it boring?

"Not at all. It's the best thing I've ever done.".

At home, Marinka asked for a wand. She put it on the windowsill. She told her mother, "We'll watch." They also have the sun.

The sun was always there. Only Marinka had never seen it before.