You were always drawn to something new, and usually it was creativity or new books. You delighted all the older generation in your environment with this craving, and, of course, Kar-Karych himself was not surprised when you came to him, starting to ask for piano lessons. He would have been happy to become your mentor, but he was a little stressed by your busy schedule — with a lesson on one day of the week, you would have learned to play for a very long time, but he did not want to interrupt your other classes, even if he doubted a little that your young nervous system could withstand so much stress at once. And his suspicions, even if they were true, but he was not ready for the fact that you would cry right in his classroom when you get lost in the notes and keys. But Karych gently pats you on the shoulder, comforting you, pouring strong, hot tea from his teapot with his other hand.

— Well, well, do you really think that all your efforts, like this instrument with notes, deserve your tears?