Postcards

Trains always hide special stories

How many memories can one postcard from Scotland bring? How many waves with a hand from the window is this card from /u/DavesCardousel worth?

It reminded me of a trip when I was young. It was 2005, and I was 9 years old. I was going to a summer vacation with my grandparents to their village, Demir Kapija, which is far from Skopje some 110 kms. We were going by train.

I still remember the morning like it was yesterday. A 9-year-old girl, so excited about the summer that’s coming, I was running around the house and smiling, and telling stupid jokes, and telling everyone to hurry up, because we might just miss the train, even though we have probably 6 more hours until then. I couldn’t eat, and I always ate. A lot. Time passed so slowly, and I couldn’t do anything else then wait.

We went there finally, and I saw all the trains arriving and leaving all the time. It was so magical. All the locomotives doing those loud sounds that made me look with my eyes wide open. With my backpack on me, I was running from one side, till the other, catching the looks of people, looking people hugging each other, love birds waving at each other, wet shirts from wiped tears, a lot of promises that they’ll see each other soon. I saw it all. I saw a girl crying because her loved one went with that train. I could see it in her eyes. She hated the train. I know she did. I saw parents hugging each other as they saw their children leave. They hated the train too. Trains often mean goodbye. That’s why we hate them so much. But trains also mean new beginnings. And that is why I love them.

The trip to Demir Kapija was a brand new beginning for me. Three months to a place that I knew, but never spent more that a weekend there. Three months without my parents, and three months without my friends from school. It scared me, a lot, but I knew I’d love it. I sat inside, and there were three girls from abroad, going to Athens. One of them was sleeping, the other one was at the window, waving at people, and the third one I loved the most. She was coloring something in a coloring book. She was so uninterested in the other people. She was lost in her own world, and I saw myself there. I didn’t know much English then, I only knew a couple sentences, so I told her my name and age, and she told me hers too. I asked her in Macedonian if I can color too, and she looked me without being able to understand. I think she saw my eyes sparkling when I looked at the coloring book, so she just handed it to me. I couldn’t describe how happy I was. I started immediately, and lost myself. After a while, I stopped and she was sleeping, so I just putted the coloring book and pencils on the table on the sides, and went to see through the window.

Oh the nature my country hides… The green fields, full with grass, and the yellow fields with corn and wheat. I loved it. I was looking with my eyes wide open, I didn’t want to miss a single thing. Horses eating in the fields, donkeys and cows too. The river Vardar on the side too. I loved the wind going in my face, blowing my hair behind. I laughed so much. And I loved it. I knew then, that this summer would be great.

The girls, I never saw them again. I don’t even remember their names, except for the one with the coloring book. Una or Tuna… I know I might see them again, and never recognize them. And that’s okay. That’s a part of the destiny train trips bring. And that’s why I love them. Because at the end of the day, it’s not the name of the people that matters, but how they made you feel.

David, thank you!

Ivana

 

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Postcards

Le Tarn-et-Garonne

Amandine, this is a lovely photo!

Thanks to postcrossing again, I got FR-662417, a postcard from France. I love this photograph so much. The trees and the river seem so pure and untouched, and it make wonder about travelling there. France has a lovely nature. I’ve seen it for so long. Especially the fields with lavender in south France… So amazing!

Amandine, I wanted to study pedagogy. Something about the kids always thrilled me. I have spent hours and hours reading about it, and trying to figure out their psychology and how the brain works, not only for the kids, but for adults too. Freud has been my friend for so long. He’s my favorite, I must say. There is something about people that entertains me so much. How their brain works? Why do they think what they think and many other questions that I still can’t understand. It just thrills me.

Thank you for the amazing card!

 

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Postcards

Tilburg – The Netherlands

Too bad that my karate life didn’t bring me to The Netherlands. I’ve heard a lot of beautiful stories for that country. Today I received a postcrossing card from Bianca NL-3336806 from Tilburg, The Netherlands.

The statue is Koning Willem II (Kind William the second), and he lived in Bianca’s town. His palace is now townhall.

Bianca, thank you for the amazing card. Thank you for the three amazing stamps too. I adore them!

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Postcards

“The common reader” – Virginia Woolf

Okay, book lovers! This one is for you!

Second of this type of postcards that I get. The first from Penguin,and this one from Pelican books. Haven’t read “The common reader” by Virginia Woolf, so I can’t tell much about it. I have seen the goodreads review, and it seems like an interesting plot.

Have you read it? I want you to tell me everything about it 🙂 I’d love to hear your comments 😀

Also, not to forget, the special thanks to a postcrossing user from Hong Kong. It is my first card from Hong Kong, and I will remember HK-396282. Vicki, thank you for the card! I am a book lover too, and I love this postcard so, so much!

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Postcards

Always be a dreamer and never give up

Annemarie sent me this postcard of a fairy, I think, and that fairy is fixing her wing. This is one of the many reasons why I love postcrossing (NL-3358563).

There was one little girl that dreamed with her eyes open. She believed everything is possible, and therefore, she was always happy. People would stare at her and just wonder how it is possible for someone to be always happy and never to have a sad face. It was because she was a dreamer. She believed in happiness. She made happiness. She made herself wings and believed she could fly. And yes, she did fly, and people would wonder again how she did it. But she was already up above, enjoying the view while she flew.

One day, it all changed. There was this terrible storm and this strong wind, and one of her wings broke. She fell down and she couldn’t fly. It hurt her so much. Not the wing, but the fact that she couldn’t be up again, flying, among the birds, among the planes, among the clouds and the blue sky. She cried a lot, and her happiness was not here anymore.

She saw the sun the next day. And she wanted to be close to the sun so much. People expected her to be unhappy again, but no, there she was, fixing her broken wing, singing songs and smiling, laughing even. She was happy again, and she believed. She did believe she could fly again, and this time nothing could stop her, nor people, nor storms.

I saw her a while ago. She was flying and waved at me. I smiled, because I knew she was happy. I always knew she always be happy. Because she’s a dreamer. And she never gives up.

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