The children laughed at Grandma Zina, who took pristine food from the dining room home, but there was a good reason.

The community has always valued active helpless. As the most vulnerable segment of the population, the poor are not able to take care of their future, their comfort. And when we say that, we don’t mean lazy people and lazy people who have the opportunity to get together and go and make money for themselves. And the elderly, the orphans, the disabled, all those who need our support and help.



More recently, at the age of 92, we left a wonderful man, philanthropist and creator of the Duty Free Shoppers chain, entrepreneur Charles Feeney. He was on the list of 400 richest Americans. Well, ask the layman, there are still enough billionaires for our lifetime. The fact that Charles donated all his wealth, and even anonymously, throughout his life to charity. At the end of his journey, he could be called an ordinary poor man. So, since such wealthy fat cats are spent on helping their neighbor, we, ordinary people, too, could not pass by a person in need. It won't get any worse.

Children in our school are sometimes very cruel. Sometimes it happens more often than I would like. For example, a boy in high school lost his shoes. Two pairs. Replacement shoes and ordinary shoes, in which he came to the school. They put teachers, a security guard on their feet, even the head teacher ran through classes, looking for disappearance. It turned out that he was “joked” by classmates and several students from high school. The victim was wearing slippers at the time, frightened and humiliated.

And no one said anything, if it were not for an accident, who knows if they would give the student his things or not. Yes, I understand that it has always been so, because children do not develop moral qualities and feelings of guilt. Teachers should do their best to teach them this. But let me. What about the parents? Do they not understand anything, they do not care about their own children? It’s strange and, to be honest, very sad.



Our school also has a dining room. Just like everyone else. One of God's grandparents works on it. Helps in the kitchen, washes dishes. Mostly, no one notices such: well, what can it be remarkable? But Grandma Zina was recently bullied by a local kid. And why? High school students at one point drew attention to the fact that an elderly woman collects untouched dishes in cans and takes with her. That is, what ordinary children did not even touch, they suddenly became interested. Well, how is it that an adult does not throw away harchi, but takes it for himself. Reason to laugh!

We had an explanatory conversation with my grandmother, chided, but let her go. They didn’t even ask why she was doing it, because if old people like to feed stray animals on the street, they don’t use clean glass jars. The food was not meant for animals. So... it’s all sad, in general. We teachers, at the last council, even raised this question for a moment and asked whether it was possible to raise the wages of an old woman, even if not by much. However, the school could not give this opportunity.

To be honest, I do not consider myself the most compassionate person in the world. I like cats, but dogs are not so good. But I got this poor old lady thing in my head and that's it. I thought, thought and thought that I wanted to visit her, help with some products. I see her all the time. No, we don't make the whole change, but we say hello and we can smile when we're in the mood. It's okay, we're human.



Less words, more action. I picked up some food, tea, sweets of all sorts, asked the director how I could find out the address of that very grandmother Zina, gathered my thoughts and went to the far end of the city. That's right, she lived there. The first thing that came to mind: there are definitely stray dogs out there. Really, the edge, only the field. Many old nine-story buildings, but no infrastructure. Even asphalt is rare. How does she get to work?

Already standing under the house and checking the address, I was still nervous inside. Really, I came out of nowhere. Some kind of bag. What are we gonna do? Okay, I'll come and say hello, I'll leave the groceries, and then I'll say I've got a lot of work to do, and I'm gonna have to check the whole class. Yeah, I won't waste anyone's time and I'll do a good job, fine. Well, let's go.



Grandma Zina met me well. She immediately knew who had come to her and invited me to come to her apartment. Of course, I was ready for the peculiar life of an elderly person, but in fact everything turned out to be much better than I thought. Easy, not rich. But it's clean and neat. Do you remember when you washed plastic bags? It was, it was, don't pretend. So I saw them again. But they were folded, carefully. We need to save money.

I was given a cup of tea, asked what all this mystery brought me here. Well, I told a hastily invented story that my aunt lives near here, but she wasn't at home, so I decided to bring groceries to Grandma Zina, in general, everything like that. We, as teachers, know by memory the addresses of all school employees. What did you think?!

It's been about an hour. We had a nice conversation about everything and nothing, so I was going to leave. When I suddenly noticed in the far corner a bag full of cans of food from the dining room. There would be enough food for five people. What's so much for one old woman? I wanted to ask a question, but I stumbled. And the old lady noticed my shyness, looked towards the bag with banks, sighed and began to tell.



It turned out that the food was intended for her son-in-law. He lives two entrances from Zina's grandmother's apartment. His wife left him and left with another man. That's why my son-in-law drank. Scary. Age is such that you will not change anything, no matter how hard you try. And the neighbors around them, at least a stake on their heads scales: nothing cares. So he drinks, and when he doesn’t drink, he cries and remembers his ex-wife, the daughter of my interlocutor.

That's what all this food was meant for. Pity your son-in-law, says Granny Zina. But there's no other way. She blames herself, too, because she knew there was another man. But she promised her daughter to keep quiet. And now she's gone.



While I thought I was helping a poor woman, it turned out she was helping someone else. I don’t know what conclusions to draw for myself. I haven't told anyone at work, and the old lady and I still say hello and wink at each other. I hope she and her son-in-law are doing well. That's how you hope to help your children grow old. And as a result, you have to try to support the lives of others. Isn't that a bitter irony?