Suzdal. Childhood travel ticket

(From the biography of Vyacheslav Vladimirovich Tovarov, laureate)

State Prize of the USSR, professor, doctor of technical sciences. A native of Suzdal

In childhood, under the influence of knowledge gained at school, books read, fantasies, finally, we dream of leaving the parental home, gaining independence, reaching certain heights in life. In the later years, when something has already come true, something has remained unrealized for objective reasons, everything has been determined - thoughts turn to the analysis of the past, to the beginning.

It is noticed that in old age people are drawn to their homeland, to one land, to memory. It turns out that there is nothing better than a home village, a small town. And the grass is greener, and the air is cleaner, and it breathes easier.

Tenty-year-old resident of Dnepropetrovsk V.V. Tovarov likes to read fiction. But a good book is hard to get. Once he was lucky: he saw in the bookstore a collection of fantastic stories of Soviet writers. The book was published in the German market. "Nothing, I'll read it," he decided and bought the collection.

Vyacheslav Vladimirovich especially liked the story of V. Kolupaev “Travel ticket to childhood”. The idea is, you come to the station, you get in line for a ticket.

- Where are you going? the cashier asks. - Childhood.

You pay money and get the ticket you want. There were many elderly people on the platform. We've got an old, old train. And we hooked it to a paracarrier, also an old one. Let's go. And three hours have passed. The conductor announces, "We're here!" The train will continue, please release the carriages.” Everyone rushes to the windows. One shouts "Suzdal!" Another: "Zagorsk!" Three: "Pskov!" The fourth thing is that everyone came to their childhood.

Well, how not to smile! Naive and touching. Obviously, the author of the story did not know that there is no railway in Suzdal, but most importantly, he managed to accurately convey the experiences of people who largely live in memory.

Vyacheslav Vladimirovich read the story and, as in a dream, resurfaced in memory “pictures of a sweet childhood spent in Suzdal, parents, house, birch under the windows.” "Suzdal!" he exclaimed. - Suzdal, how do you live, the city of childhood, how did your modern destiny develop?

Impressions from reading the resulting feeling was so strong that the professor decided: “I’m going to Suzdal!”