Crime in childish cruelty детская жестокость

CRIME in CHILDISH CRUELTY
(the story in blind writer's childhood)

This all's happened when I was learning in the third grade. In our village, where our boarding school was located, it was just magnificently beautiful and green everywhere.
Our teachers' love was to drive us to the sport-ground stadium, near which the fir-grove went up.
Its evergreen trees pleased my eyes!
Those trees seemed would beckoning to themselves, attracting me with their huge fluffy green-paws,
and we often wanted to play with them, but their sharp pricking spines sank into our little fingers, hurtting.

The boys played the ball at the stadium, they often held their scramblings, wrestling and fights, some of them hid in that fir-grove place, behind there they initiated out smoking.
It's very funny recalls in my memory now, how the boys tried setting afires up to those fir-trees in griven place, after that they kept out of sight their heads from the caregivers and our teachers.

This story'd happened just right at this stadium.
The boys, as always, ran off our presence, on their own business, and we as the girls, arranged our mutual game. So, girls had put me in the middle of their game-circle.
Having fun in talking, they persuaded me to kneel and, wanting to portray something incomprehensible, firstly, they had broken my glasses.
I began to cry while they proceeded to feed me gathered grass and made me eat it and dirt.
Seeing that I don't want to eat their grass, they began to force me with all sorts of persuasions and multiple threats.
I was completely astonished, because earlier our girls had not shown me any cruelty, but on the contrary they had regretted, helped and took compassions on me every time before.
This time we were brought to the stadium in a crew by four classes, so our tutors were sitting peacefully on the benches and had talks.

Yes, I must tell you, - now I understand that God had truly chosen me indeed and He already kept me, because, how can I explain, while they were braking my glasses, not a single spllinter-glass stuck-away out my eyes – I stayed alive!
Then and after I'd want to say that the grassy dirty did not do any harm to my stomach either.
When we had returned to our boarding school, I've complained to the tutor about what the girls had done.
She just laughed and said: "Well, d'you alive?".

For a long time I considered this action as their childish cruelty and more longer I was taking amiss, I took injured by that teacher my insult, my offense.
Now, looking back my past behind, I understand that God had been already giving me personal trials, but they were small to me.
He even then had been preparing me for a farther important life, telling me that I'd, as a cripple, I would have to experience his force a lot in my life and "what does not kill us - makes us stronger."

Sincerely Yours,
(MGЮ) Genrietta
Yours “An unvisually christian-poetress – Genrietta”
https://vk.com/genrietta_asd