Beauty, they say, in the eyes of the observer.

It is possible because when I look at my neighborhood, I see our old people striking the foundations of the house, see how we are sniffing at the back of school, see the frozen stream in front of the kindergarten, see myself with the braids and red hair in my hair ... I see the history you do not see ...

You see the illegally emerged settlement, the unsupported dotepens who raised the "bullies from Kozara Boka", the house blurred with the factory smoke, you see the quarters of the galoshes (who probably built the building in which you live), see what you are served and judge by what you are "overheard".

I said already, Bandic has officially opened us a sports recreation park, while he held a speech in which I, for some time, felt sincerity for the first time. Or the mayor for the first time listened to advisors and upgraded PR. In speaking, she addressed our parents who came to Kozari Bok and Kozari Puteva with large suitcases more than half a century ago. They worked, built, fought against the excavators who ruined the tired home and built children. He was thanked by Bandic and said the park was the least able to give them, and sent an apology that this did not happen before. Because "you are worthy of the magnificent buildings and the flourishing of the city, your hands have provided a home to many," said Bandic. Addressing the workers' class that led the grandchild to the park was one of Milan's most brilliant moves. He cried to his unbelief, and one of those who watched him with adoration was my dad. As he would not, finally someone gave him a confession that he helped build a home without digging, sewed the sewage system, introduced electricity, dumped it, brought it, and then received a paycheck for punishment for illegal attachments.

However, the older team from my neighborhood was largely involved in the construction of Zagreb. And not just that. What builds up is not so easy. That is why, in the 90 war years, my quartz embraced the camouflage uniforms. He did not wait for the call. We had to defend what was created, so our guys were scattered across various brigades and troops. Black Mambe, Pume, Tigers and 99 Brigade are filled with boys from Kozara Boka and Puteva. Some of them went to HOS, then straight to Vukovar. Some have not returned from it ...

And when we are in defense at home, it does not stop today. I attribute the greatest merit to my great neighbors who, in the hands of experienced hunters, sit in the yard's "waiting" and record unfamiliar street movements. There are a few of them, and you get all the reports you get when you get back from work:

- These were you guys from T-coma ... I told you they did not have any access to the yard because you did not ...

or…

"Some with your black car was parked in front of you this morning, but it did not go in. I did not see the registration ...

These aged Cherries angels often mingle in the middle of the road as misty spies, and the mysterious whispers exchange information. We're scared that they're "on the headache", but there's no joke about them. The street is defended by the sea. Because they built and paid for it.

To build something and never give up, that is love and for that it needs to have a heart. And that with me, in my neighborhood there is progress and you see it only if you fully open and if you look right. The magic angels for many would be babe traitors. I am the "guardians of the home". Because, whatever happens to you, death in the family, illness, fire, shamelessness - you are not alone. All breathing like one, all help as I can. And nobody condemns it.

Just as they did not give Croatia, they did not give Zagreb, its park, its street.

And what if it is not love?

Author: Snježana Vučković