{"id":402,"date":"2026-05-01T12:07:53","date_gmt":"2026-05-01T09:07:53","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.kazkaland.com\/?post_type=kazka&p=402"},"modified":"2026-05-21T21:19:00","modified_gmt":"2026-05-21T18:19:00","slug":"pershi-choboty-oleksiya","status":"publish","type":"kazka","link":"https:\/\/www.kazkaland.com\/en\/kazka\/pershi-choboty-oleksiya\/","title":{"rendered":"Alexey's first boots"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u23f1 ~4 min reading<\/p>\n\n\n

Alexey looked at the boots and couldn't believe that they were now his. Small, leather, the color of dark chocolate. Two round buttons gleamed on them\u2014real, metal, with delicate patterns. Grandma had brought them from the city, wrapped in soft paper.<\/p>\n\n

"Hold on, Cossack," she said, placing her boots on the rug. "Your nose is healthy.".<\/p>\n\n

Alexei squatted down and carefully touched them with his finger. The skin was smooth, cool. It smelled of something special, grown-up, warm\u2014like an old saddle.<\/p>\n\n

\u201cAre they mine? Absolutely, absolutely?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n

"Yours. Only yours. Try it.".<\/p>\n\n

Alexey took off his slippers and carefully put his feet into the new boots. First the left one. Then the right one. Grandma helped him fasten the buttons.<\/p>\n\n

Alexey stood up. And froze.<\/p>\n\n

Something was wrong. His legs felt like they belonged to someone else. They didn't bend like they used to. The boots pressed down\u2014not painfully, no, just\u2026differently. Alexei took one step\u2014and felt his skin creak: "cree-er.".<\/p>\n\n

\u201cGrandma,\u201d he said quietly, \u201cI don\u2019t think they love me.\u201d.<\/p>\n\n

Grandma smiled and sat down on the bench next to him.<\/p>\n\n

"You know, Olesya," she said gently, "when you get something new\u2014shoes, a friend, even a new season\u2014at first it's always a guest. A guest behaves decently, doesn't climb on your lap. He doesn't know you, you don't know him. But if you go through something good together\u2014even one little adventure\u2014the guest becomes a friend. And a friend\u2014he no longer presses in. He holds.<\/p>\n\n

Alexey thought. Then he nodded. He didn't quite understand, but he believed his grandmother.<\/p>\n\n

\u201cHow will we experience the adventure?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n

"And this," the grandmother smiled mysteriously, "you'll find it yourself. The boots themselves will tell you when the time comes.".<\/p>\n\n

It rained this evening. Not a little, but a real one\u2014generous, full, noisy. Alexey sat by the window and watched the drops jump on the windowsill, the water trail running down the glass.<\/p>\n\n

And in the morning, everything was even better. The yard had turned into a little kingdom of puddles. Big and small, round and oval, they lay everywhere \u2014 as if someone had scattered silver coins.<\/p>\n\n

Alexey rushed to his boots. Today, he felt, was that day.<\/p>\n\n

\u201cGrandma, I\u2019m coming out!\u201d he shouted.<\/p>\n\n

"Go, little one," said the grandmother from the kitchen. "And listen to what the boots tell you.".<\/p>\n\n\n

\"\u041f\u0435\u0440\u0448\u0456<\/figure>\n\n\n

Alexey ran out onto the porch. In front of him lay the biggest puddle in the world\u2014round, like a pancake that wouldn't fit on a plate. It looked at Alexey with its watery eyes and seemed to be calling out:<\/p>\n\n

"Jump! Well, jump!"<\/p>\n\n

Alexey hesitated. What if they get wet? What if mom scolds them? What if he damages the new boots?<\/p>\n\n

He stood for a long time. Then he looked at the boots. They were silent. Only the leather creaked a little - as if it had winked.<\/p>\n\n

And Alexei gathered courage and jumped.<\/p>\n\n

\u00ab"Pluff!" - splashes flew in all directions! Small drops splashed on his overalls, his cheeks, his hair. Alexey laughed out loud - loudly, resoundingly, to the whole yard.<\/p>\n\n

He felt his feet - dry! The boots stood strong. Not a single drop had gotten inside.<\/p>\n\n

"Wow!" exclaimed Alexei. "You are real heroes!"<\/p>\n\n

He jumped again\u2014into the next puddle. And again. And again. He went from one to the next, leaving wet footprints. His boots creaked\u2014no longer \u00abcree-er,\u00bb but \u00abhee-hee,\u00bb as if they were laughing with him.<\/p>\n\n

When Mom finally called for dinner, Alexei returned to the porch. He looked at his boots. They were a little splattered with mud, but now they were his own, his own. No creaking. No "squeaking.".<\/p>\n\n

Alexei crouched down and carefully took them off. He placed them neatly by the threshold \u2014 in a row, toe to toe.<\/p>\n\n

"Well, we're friends now, Boots," he said quietly. "Thank you.".<\/p>\n\n

And he heard a soft "cry-er" in response - soft, like the sigh of a contented cat.<\/p>\n\n

"Well," said the grandmother, going out onto the porch with a towel, "how did the adventure go?"<\/p>\n\n

"Great," Alexey smiled with a wet face. "They don't oppress me anymore. They're mine now.".<\/p>\n\n

Grandma nodded, not surprised.<\/p>\n\n

"That's how it should be, Cossack. Everything that has become family was once foreign. We just have to get through our first puddle together.".<\/p>\n\n

Alexey thought about it. And he realized that it wasn't just about boots. It was about everything in the world \u2014 about a new kindergarten, about a new neighbor, about an unfamiliar language. First \u2014 a guest. Then \u2014 a friend.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n\n

\u2728 Everything that has become familiar was once foreign - we must experience our first adventure together \u2728<\/p>\n\n<\/div>\n

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