I had gotten an odd present for my birthday.
That was a huge box, covered in bright and shining paper, with a big red bow.
I had been so curious and finally I decided to open the box next day.
I was looking at it, fidgeting with it.
Suddenly it seemed to me that there was something moving inside the box.
I knocked at the box with my forefinger.
Then I put my ear to the bright paper.
I heard the funny husky voice from there:
- Don't knock, please!
I got scared and recoiled from the table.
The box fell down.
- O-o-oh! - the voice said from the box.
Then there was some fuss for a while, and finally the same husky voice asked:
- Let me get out of here please, there is no space and no air to breath.
- Who are you?
- I am a Good, - the voice said from the box.
- ???
There began some fuss in the box again.
And I hastily untied the bow.
I took the paper away and carefully touched the cover.
Something small and orange fell from the box.
It jumped to the windowsill and almost fell outside.
- Be careful! - I pulled it to the floor, - you could hurt yourself!
- “Hurt”? - the Good asked, - what does “hurt” mean?
That simple and straight question made me confused.
- Well, it means that you could die...
- What does “die” mean? - the funny orange Good jumped onto my lap.
How could I explain to this little one what is death?
And I said:
- Forget!
The Good laughed and rolled down from my lap.
- Where did you come from, such an odd thing?
My new friend laughed again but didn't answer.
Then it flooded me with questions “What is that white on the trees and windows? What is there outside that nips my cheeks?”
I had no time even comprehend those simple and innocent questions, and then it asked new ones.
Finally the list of questions was over and my new little friend started to walk around the room, looking at the souvenirs which probably were its weakness.
I sighed with relief, at the chance to rest but then it startled me with the next questions:
- What is so noisy?
- Those are cars, - I said.
- What are they for?
- To drive people.
- Some kind of horses?
- Mmm, something... sort of... But they are much faster, complicated and dangerous.
- Dangerous? What does it mean?
- Well, danger is something that we are afraid of.
- Why are you afraid of it?
- Oh my God! Please stop asking these questions, your what's and why's!
- Why are you afraid of it? - the Good asked its question again, it wasn't even paying attention at my words.
- Because everybody is afraid of death! - I said it a bit irritated.
- Hm-m, the death... perhaps it is pleasure!
- No! - I got frown. - it is very bad.
- Then what is bad?
I got lost and babbled something:
- Well, bad... bad is not good...
I was really wondered because the Good came to me and gravely nodded.
It was thinking of something for a while.
Then it called me:
- Hey, if the death is not good then why is there so much of it?


To be continued...