Young teacher
One of the teachers at the boarding school was Pyotr Fedorovich Yemelyanov. He was accommodated not far from the school, in a cozy two-room private house. My godfather, a physical education teacher, lived with him for a short time, but then he got married and was given another apartment, which also belonged to the school.
Pyotr Fyodorovich was a biology teacher by profession. But there were not enough teachers, and he had to teach geography, history, and housing. His students respected him.
Flower beds and shrubs
After work, the biologist tended the flower beds planted near the school every day. He also made a hedge around the school, planting shrubs along the windows and, like a real gardener, pruning, cutting and weeding them day after day.
Detractors said that it would have been better if Pyotr Fyodorovich had gone to a local club to dance, especially since there were clearly not enough unmarried men in the village. Otherwise, I would have started a family.
But Yemelyanov did not pay attention to the gossip. As the years passed, he continued to teach children and do what he loved. It was eventually decided to transfer the boarding school to a settlement near the district center. Teachers were offered places in city schools. At that time, Peter Fedorovich was just over forty years old.
The biologist categorically refused to move to the city, because the creation of his whole life - flower beds and hedges - remained here.
Flowers on the grave
Over time, the local club, library, post office, and store were moved to the vacant school. And Pyotr Fyodorovich was in charge of the courtyard. He managed to get a poverty-stricken allowance for himself, which allowed him to somehow exist, but just a couple of years later, before reaching the age of forty-five, the teacher died suddenly. The cause of death was called heart failure.
Within a few days, all the flower beds wilted, although the summer weather was not that hot. Only the hedge that decorated the former school building remained.
Winter has passed. In the spring, the fence began to grow into a kind of fence, not only surrounding the walls of the school, but also gradually closing the main entrance. No matter how they tried to free up the space in front of the porch, the same picture was observed every morning - the bushes were regaining their positions. Then the locals found a way out. They built an arch and let shoots run along it. Just a couple of days later, the branches went up, connecting the two ends of the hedge.
In the summer, teachers came from the city on vacation to their abandoned homes. They were amazed that no one took care of the hedge, but it continued to remain smooth and beautiful. My godfather then joked that it was Pyotr Fyodorovich who was looking after his creation from the other world. And when they came to the biologist's grave, his former colleagues saw beautiful flowers around the monument. Other graves nearby were overgrown with grass and weeds, and Pyotr Fyodorovich had a real flower bed. https://agentlotto.com