The night before my birthday, somebody knocked on my kitchen window, some gigles and then the candle lights on a delicious cake. Can there be a better surprise?
So we paused as my favorite chilren's book series heroin Aysegül (Debbie in English, Martine in French) by Marcel Marlier and Gilbert Delahaye which made me believe in such a beautiful world.
The morning after which was my birth-day, we all agreed to go out for a modest breakfast in the junction of the Black Sea and the Bosphorus that you can see behind H on the photo.
Although we born as "one" and we die as "one", we need our happy crowd along the way.
Laughed loud, ate all well and paused for the occasion.
Aren't birthdays about this happy crowd in life?
The night when I was going back to my bed, I realised I felt so happy and safe like our little hazelnut in her mom's arms.
I remembered my birthday last year, not a cheerful one at all. As an abondoned amusement park in winter.
Having lost my job with 260 employees in the company due to the crisis, friends and family came in but there was a silent sadness in the air as the boyfriend didn't show up, neither called. A birthday of sudden losses.
We own so much to our happy crowds. we must never stop being grateful about them.