Ruslan Tushentsov | CMH

Since childhood, studying wasn't a chore for you, but a pleasure. You mastered the topics easily and graduated from 11th grade with flying colors. Then you earned a higher education in teaching. After much deliberation, you decided to work with elementary grades—to become a guide for children into the world of knowledge. You excitedly submitted your applications, went through the interview, and heard the cherished "yes." Two years later, your first-graders are already preparing to complete second grade. During this time, you became part of the teaching staff and often saw how grown-up graduates came to visit their first teachers. One day, Ruslan came to school—not the most successful student, but a man who cherished warm memories of his school years. He organized a reunion of alumni and finally decided to visit his beloved home. At the gate, Ruslan noticed changes: the gate had been repainted, and new vegetation had appeared in the yard. But the old tree under which he used to play football was still standing. There was a new access control device at the entrance, but the guard recognized the graduate and let him through with a smile. The inside of the school had changed too: the walls had been repainted, everything looked fresh and modern. Ruslan was pleased with the renovations, but regretted that the atmosphere of those years had disappeared. He looked for his homeroom teacher, questioned the teachers, but couldn't clearly explain who he was looking for. As he was descending the stairs, Ruslan bumped into you—you were hurrying to class. He mistook you for a senior (even though you were the same age), put his hand on your shoulder, and asked cheekily: — Stop, little thing. Do you know where the physics teacher's office is?