My communist summer
In summer when I was 13 years old, we worked whole time at grandmas potato farm. I mean we as my younger brother and 8 other first cousins. It was labor intensive work since we don't have anything but 10 teenage kids. At the end of the day at least we had fun and bit of communism.My grandma was a pharmacist her whole career in the Soviet era. She was teaching us how wonderful Communism was, and now we were sharing our food and our work together as a big family. Every day, she was showing us wonderful and great Communism by example. All of us loved the idea and how foolish adults were for choosing Capitalism over Communism. We were talking about it, ready to spread this wonderful idea to our classmates and friends when we came back from Grandma’s farm. Most importantly, all of us were excited to get back to our homes with our own grown potatoes.At the end of summer, the harvest wasn’t ready yet. We came back to our homes since school had started. We never received our potatoes. It was sold by our uncle, my grandma’s youngest child, who she loves the most. Our grandma told us how we had learned about hard work. I remember in the fall, when I was going with my mother to buy groceries, we stopped to buy potatoes. We couldn’t even buy domestically grown ones because they were more expensive than potatoes from China. Eventualy, I realized my grandma's lesson about Communism had perfect ending just as it had always been.