Key

Key

When I hear the word key, my memory immediately takes me back to my grandmother's house, back to my childhood—to a place of unlocked doors, mooing cows, crowing roosters, endless potato fields, freshly cooked eggs (collected with my own hands) with homemade butter (also churned by me), unlimited time spent outdoors, running barefoot, a summer that seemed as if it would never end, and the anticipation of countless wild and unknown adventures.

My grandmother lived only 150 kilometres from a big city. Today, that feels like a distance you could easily drive there and back in a single day. But not back then. It was a long journey, even for an adult, let alone a six-year-old child.

My parents didn't own a car, but my father had a company car with a driver who would take us to my grandmother's house at the beginning of the summer holidays. My mother always packed sandwiches so we could have lunch on the way. My parents usually stayed for one night before returning to the city and to work.

And I would have three months of what my mother called "wild life."

Three months when I could wear whatever I wanted, without worrying whether I looked presentable or ladylike. Three months of getting up as early or as late as I pleased. Three months of catching up with my village friends.

Three months...

They felt like an entire lifetime.

Somewhere in the middle of that lifetime, my father would come to visit, bringing presents from the city. The only shop in the village sold rye bread and a few other essentials, but there were no toys, no ice cream, none of the things a child dreams about.

My father would always bring my favourite sweet—Golden Key toffee.

Golden in colour, chewy, and tasting like heaven.

I would put three of them into my mouth at once, close my eyes, and simply enjoy the taste. A few minutes later, I would run outside to share them with my friends.

But those first few moments...

Those were moments of intense happiness, the kind you feel is too big to contain, the kind that almost bursts out of you.

The years passed. My grandmother has long been gone, and so has her house. I haven't been back to that village for decades.

Yet whenever I see Golden Key toffee, a little girl inside me immediately starts jumping with anticipation.

Not because she wants the sweet.

Because, for just a moment, she knows she is about to meet that feeling again.