I worked as a teacher when I lived in Moscow, and I've had a lot of students; and this one, he was my favorite.
He had a great sense of humor, he was smart, and he really, really rocked the essays.
His nickname was Steve, and to this day I call him so (out of habit). I quit my job more than 5 years ago, but thankfully, Steve and his beautiful wife (and now, their four kids, too) have become our dearest friends. We moved from Moscow to Orel, but these guys actually come to visit us and we have a wonderful time together just hanging around our house or, last year, camping.
It's Steve's birthday today (January 27), and I have no idea how old he is. I know some other things about him instead.
I know he's really well-educated, like he graduated from our country's best University (in physics and maths if I got it right) and has finished more courses and classes than I can remember. I know he's worked on really impressive jobs in our country's most powerful companies. I know he has a really demanding and dangerous hobby which requires excellent physical condition. I know he's an expert in rafting and camping. I know he can carve exquisite things out of wood. I know he's the person I drank with. I know he's the person I can talk to even when it's way after midnight. I know he's a fantastic friend.
It always feels like a holiday when Steve and family come to town, and we start missing them as soon as they get out of the door.
I love you guys! So grateful to have you in our life.