" ...When grandpa got rid of that grape vine I remember how sad I was. He cut it a few feet above the root stock with an axe and left the remaining stump loose. The upper parts slowly withered and just loosely hung from the sour apple and pear tree branches. The remaining trunk which was still connected to the mother earth was our playmate for a while until it got rotten and drooped from the grief of his faded descendants. The story of a vine with sweet reddish purple-colored grapes which was a friend of the little boy... "
then he fell asleep like a little boy.