Talking about preserving cultural diversity: there is a kind of grandmothers that is about to go extinct. And that is the Eastern-European village grandmother. I can only talk about the Transylvanian village grandmother, for I had one, too, once. But I will talk about mine later.

Ilezia is one of these miraculous beings. Another such memorable grandma was the one who was buying literature books from a book fest, as a birthday gift for her grandson.

Maybe it is a matter of the unique heritage that is lost with each generation, as the humanity lives too under the doom of entropy.

But, boy, why do I have the feeling that these grandmas are the bearers of a most precious legacy that will disappear forever once they are gone?

Ilezia (poem) by Peter Cooper on AuthorsDen