This table still stands in our kitchen in Moscow.

I remember well the time when I was smaller than the height of this table. When I went into the kitchen, I usually found my Grandma or her sister there. They seemed so tall to me, they reminded me of trees – poplars on the bank of the Moscow River. It seemed to me that I would never grow up like that. On the other hand, I can’t say I wanted to grow up. It was good for me to be as I was – small – and to feel safe among these kind, tall and strong people.

When I grew up, I was very soon taller than my Grandma, even though I am not tall at all.
At about the same time I began to realize that the people around me are not all-powerful giants, but ordinary people, with their weaknesses, frustrations, and can not do everything.

I like the shape of this table, elegant and simple. It still doesn’t wobble and it’s sturdy enough to eat at. I’m sorry that one day, just because we renovate the kitchen and it doesn’t fit with the new kitchen, we’ll have to part with it and replace it with another table – a new one, with no imperfections and a history of its own.