
This is a personal blog. The text could be written in the interests of the author or third parties. The 7x7 editors are not involved in its creation and may not share the author’s opinion. The registration of blogs on 7x7 is open for authors of various views.
or the story of human indifference
With opposite signs .
It seems that no one really knew where he came from.
Near the abandoned church there was also lonely stood a mowed log of hibara, which had long forgotten its last permanent households. This dilapidated house served only a temporary marina for random people who wanted to retire. To whom, in order to “crush” the pampering “half a kilo” for three, who is not for interest to spread into the cards, who hastily delighted the unpretentious burgundy.
And suddenly residents appeared in him-a woman of an indefinite age with his son-schoolboy.
For some reason, the author of the narrative missed the tie, the very beginning of events. But once he heard that the courtyard is going to go to the Church to get a break to the strange small. Many of his greatest oddity saw in the fact that he answered all the catch with his Zadirs with a pleading and confusing phrase “Konch, boy”. For this reason, they began to perceive him almost as an alien, instantly “gluing” him an expressive clico in the form of his beloved statement. He was "christened" with the end of the boy. And in order to once again hear this wonderful response “ending, boy”, the most active abarmots tried to somehow get him out of his temper-who, having sneekered behind, “reward” with a light pendel, who will “reaches” the shocking slap on the side, who will pass the “sake off for fright”. So this rural newcomer soon became the duty object of ridicule, and sometimes direct bullying. Practically - an outcast, there were a lot of people who wanted to gangle the sake of fun over the sake of fun. From the heavy hand of the most active and harmful huts, this persecution has acquired a collective and systemic nature. A stable negative herds formed. And now the author of this story was also offered to join the author of this story.
It was not customary to break away from the team according to the village concepts. Let's go, let's go. At first he himself was curious.
Observing the mockery of the end-boy turned out to be internally uncomfortable. The universal moral values that have already begun to form in the newly made viewer of this bad “circus” did not accept such an attitude towards themselves like that. He was frankly sorry for the victim of universal unkind attention. Something was in this and not so, but what exactly, he could not really understand. At first glance, it seems to be a normal kid. Well, a little with a “touched”, a dedicated look. So this is understandable when you have to resist such an excited aggressive orava. Well, it uses such an unusual phrase as "Konch, boy." But even this in itself cannot and should not cause such rejection and rejection by the surrounding peers. Well, his mother is not clear who does and what he does and in appearance resembles a restless beggar (in our time they would say, a bum). Well, they live in this holup, which is about to fall apart. So, after all, the boy is not to blame for all this. Moreover, by logic, he could and should have sympathized, and, if possible, and help to overcome serious everyday hardships. Maybe he did something so pronounced completely out of the ordinary, which is not yet known to the new member of the next performance? But no one could specifically tell him nothing intelligible in this sense. Type - just wonderful and therefore everyone is interested in fun of it.
In general, he did not like this new collective “fun” at all and he did not actively participate in it, but he also did not dare to leave either. I wanted to figure it out. But he and something lacked to stop this bacchanalia. Something prevented to shame and pull the local bully, well-known hooligan. He was still not sure that the end of the boy was not thoroughly guilty of anything. And his consciousness simply did not admit that such egregious injustice is possible because of just someone's first stupid joke, unsuccessfully supported by the others and then turned into a general harmful, wild, almost animal habit.
After some time, a rumor reached the senior boys about this collective fun, who, like high school students, already lived a somewhat separate life. They began to care for the girls. They were fond of some more serious topics, and not just “drove dogs” along the street only for the sake of raising “general nonsense”.
And then one day the church had one of these high school students, Kolka.
The author of the narrative no longer remembers whether he read an authoritative for the “jerks” of his age, the older Kolka notation to them about “what is good and what is bad”. He remembered something else well.
Kolka organized the installation on the Tennis table adjacent to the church and began to systematically come there with rackets and balls, and put the end-boy opposite himself. Nobody really knew how to play table tennis - they still only studied. Kolka himself studied steamed with Konchi. Over time, the tennis ball stopped falling to the ground after every 2-3 strokes, began to slip through the protracted series, the game began to turn out and capture. Sports excitement appeared. Gradually, all the onlooks began to join this innovation. Sports competition was formed, which grew into a real tennis tournament, in which our end-boy also participated on equal terms. He became the same member of the newly made tennis team as everyone else. He became his own among his own, equal among equal, united by one, common interest. The nickname behind him, of course, has been preserved, but she no longer caused no rejection, not aggression. Perceived for granted. Nickname and nickname. How many people have them and for what, in many cases, long -forgotten reasons?
The main thing is that he ceased to be an outcast, an object of ridicule and bullying. He expressed himself nearly, he was completely socialized. And simply - entered the common track.
Since then, the author of the narrative, sometimes recalling this story, is asking the question-where would the fate of the Konchi fell out, if it had not been so transferred to Kolka with table tennis in a timely manner?
And he also thinks - there would be more in this life such a Kolek, who are acutely feeling otherwise than someone else’s trouble and capable of selflessly and unobtrusively give a helping hand.