This is an automatically translated description

The blackthorn blooms tartly. Clinging to the roots of the earth. Stubbornly resists the winds. Frost is nothing to it.

He has seen and endured a lot under the hooves of time. No force could destroy it.

Thorns know how to defend themselves. You need to be careful with it - it is prickly.

He is wise in his inaccessibility. It has an amazing power. It attracts the eye and attracts the mind.

A beautiful blackthorn when it blooms. Its berries, smelling like heaven, attract you. For some reason, they are disturbing, like thick clouds.

Because it has a steep temper. Not everyone can be calm.

It intoxicates and wounds, heals and confuses. And it gives hope, like the gentle, sad song in which it is.

This is the life of the people in the stories and novels of this book. They are always at work. In the trials of love, pain and tears. In anxiety for their sins. And in prayers to God.

They are beautiful even when they do something clumsily. They are kind and gentle, even if it hurts someone. Their cheerfulness does not leave them even a moment before death. Because they believe that there is life in Heaven.

These are the people with whom Dmytro Keshelya grew up in his work. We have to love them. Because it is impossible not to love them. It is a sin not to love them.

And the thorn did bloom.