By Sergey Shatz. ================= On the weekend closest to March 31st, for about 10 years in a row, I went to Anechka's birthday party. I used to take my dog with me (the children fed him so much, that he would remember that day for a long time), rode my bike there or took a bus. Vinnitskaya street. Under the arch, down the hill, and then the other way around -- up to 9th floor. I still remember the way there very well -- even the button in the elevator, the hat-and-coat stand looking swollen from children's overcoats. 10 years in a row. As if watching a slow-motion (or on faster-forward) movie, I saw children grow up. Games, topics of conversation, kids themselves changed. (57th school, Moscow University) English Charades: Grisha is acting a phrase: "Who would like tea, who would like coffee?" This means that dessert is ready. Table is set in the living-room. Bella together with one of the grandmas brings tea and pies. Children fall silent for a while. Mickhail Grigorjevich comes in, unheeded, yet majestic. They played "Post" for 2 or 3 years. The birthday would be long over, and we would still keep up correspondence with the girls: two Anyas and Asya ( The birthday past, but the girls, two Anyas and Asya, and I, would still write to each other.)... Good old days! At the last birthday party in Moscow they sang Schubert's songs. Anechka has a remarkable clear voice. Even when she speaks it seems as if she is singing. No doubt, those kids could be called an intellectual elite. That was not everything, (and it was not quite that.) I saw -- how should I put it? -- their angelic souls. What is astonishing, is that their souls wouldn't change, while the kids themselves were growing up. I think that the souls of those grown up, but still remaining/being kids, live in heaven. That is, they live forever.