I want to tell you a story. Its moral is simple: we ourselves create our own destiny. It doesn't matter how old you are, 17 or 70. The main thing is to understand that only you yourself can change the routine course of life.
Old lady in the doorway
These events began in 2001-2002. The building in which I worked had neither a dining room nor a buffet. There were no cafes nearby either, only shops. If he forgot to take lunch from home, then the question of where to satisfy hunger became very relevant. We bought canned food, Korean noodles, buns with sour cream. We learned how to cook dumplings, fry eggs and potatoes in the microwave.
There was a large wooden house next to our building. Once, running past him, I saw a granny at the door. She looked about 70 years old. There was a small table in front of my grandmother, on which lay Korean noodles, bouillon cubes, boxes of juice and... BUNKI! Yes Yes! Exactly in big letters!
Believe me, I know a lot about baking: my grandmother cooked such airy buns.
I involuntarily slowed down, and suddenly I heard timidly: "Buy a bun, it's inexpensive." I didn't have to be persuaded - she took it, and didn't regret it for a second. I didn't get much from the bun, all my colleagues wanted to try it. They began to buy them from my grandmother for tea, for lunch and at home.
Autumn has come. The grandmother expanded her assortment, she got pies:
- with potato;
- cabbage;
- liver;
- with apples.
When winter came, and pink salmon were brought to the wholesale markets, pies appeared on our menu. A little later, granny mastered pizza.
But real glory came to her when pasties appeared on a small table. Delicate and juicy, they just melted in your mouth. Chebureks were in great demand. To buy them, you had to run to her at 10 o'clock and place an order.
War for grandma
Little by little, the baboon business gained momentum. Second courses appeared on the menu. They were laid out on disposable plates and wrapped in cling film.
Jeeps and Mercedes with tinted windows began to stop outside the house. Men in black came out of them. We bought lunches in bulk and left.
Once, the cherished door of the grandma was closed. The authorities blamed the elderly business woman for all deadly sins:
- no license;
- does not pay taxes;
- unsanitary conditions;
- no permission from firefighters, and so on.
And then the public rose to defend our wet nurse: they collected signatures, wrote in the newspapers. But in reality, most likely, those people in black cars helped her.
Transformation
A month has passed. Trade resumed. Only not from the street, but from the other side.
A washbasin appeared in a small corridor.
One of the rooms has been transformed into a dining room.
Grandma attracted the whole family to her business. The son and son-in-law were engaged in supplies. The daughter and daughter-in-law helped the grandmother in the kitchen. The grandchildren worked on the distribution.
As time went. All black jeeps also came, only meals were brought out not in plastic plates, but in special thermoses. Granny has formed her own circle of regular visitors. Despite the fact that there were many other points around where you could eat, Grandma's cafe kept its mark.
We have moved to another building. I haven't appeared in these places for about 10 years.
Of course, she herself is no longer alive, but the family business she created did not die, but was continued in children and grandchildren. I could not resist - went in and bought a cheburek.
So, at 70, the grandmother was able to turn her life and the life of her family. And she did it!