My grandmother left me her summer house, but in recent years, she hadn’t even been there, and the house had fallen into disrepair. 🏚️ Everyone around me insisted that I should demolish it and at least sell the land. 🥰 But I had so many childhood memories connected to that place, it felt as though my childhood and my grandmother’s soul still lived there. đź’ I just couldn’t do it. 🍰 So, I decided to restore the house, even though everyone thought it was a crazy, hopeless idea. But look at the amazing result I managed to achieve! 👇
When I first arrived there after many years, my heart tightened at the sight of what I saw.
The roof had holes, the walls had darkened with age, the windows had been broken long ago, and the garden, where my grandmother’s favorite peonies once grew, had turned into a wasteland overgrown with bushes.
But despite all of this, I felt the house could still be saved.
There was a lot of work to do. First, I cleared the land of trash and dead plants, then, together with the workers, I began repairing the roof and reinforcing the walls.
It wasn’t easy – sometimes I felt like I had no strength left, that it would be better to give up and do what others had suggested.
But every time I remembered the smell of my grandmother’s pies and the long summer evenings under the old oak tree, I found new strength within myself.
After a few months, the house was transformed. I restored the porch, painted the walls, and replaced the windows.
Flowers bloomed again in the garden, and the kitchen smelled of fresh baked goods. Now, this is not just a house – it’s a piece of memory, a place where the past meets the present.
