And on the long way, the man began to speak,
He talks about himself, but at the same time he comforts his sick wife who has lived with him for forty years in misery, misery and suffering toil and toil, helping him in the field, and bearing alone the burdens of the house…
right Now..
He felt that he had been harsh with her all the past years, and that he had now to treat her kindly and softly, and to hear her kind words,
He told her that he wronged her, and that life also wronged her, because he did not find time in his daily life to say a kind, sweet and sweet word to her, or give her a pure smile as thin as water, or give her a moment of tenderness!!!
And the man kept speaking with sadness and sorrow, all the way, and the words carved for them in the human soul… a stream as water falling on a rock carved deep lines. To make up for her – in words – for what she had lost during the past forty years of love, tenderness and the warmth of married life, and he made promises to her that he would achieve everything she wanted and wished for for the rest of her life…
When he reached the city, he got down from the front seat to carry her from the back seat in his arms for the first time in his life to the doctor but found her dead… She was a cold body…. She died on the road… She died before you could hear his sweet and melodious speech!!!
And here ends the story of pain, which Chekhov wrote to leave us like the old peasant who was conversing with himself, but it was too late…
Words are useless now…
It has lost its meaning!!!
We don’t know each other’s value until the end!!
It is better to give a rose on time than to give everything you have too late.
It is better to say a beautiful word at the right time than to write a poem after the feelings are gone.
There is no point in things that come later than their time, like a kiss of apology on the forehead of a dead person.
“Don’t postpone beautiful things, they may not happen again
short story 