Heroyi opovidan′ pryrecheni na lyubov, lyubov chymernu, nespodivanu, lyubov usuperech, lyubov, scho pidnimayet′sya ponad i ne padaye. I tse ne lyshe lyubov odne do odnoho. TSe lyubov do toho chasu i prostoru, v yakomu ty opynyvsya, do svitu, yakyy ty berezhesh, nemov krychku ta nizhnu portselyanu, do naymenshoyi hilochky, naykrychitnishoho lystochka, koshtovnishoho za zoloto. Spravzhnist′ dlya nych — tse naybil′shyy ta naydorozhchyy skarb. Bo, napravdu, nemaye nichoho tsinnishoho, anizh zrozumity pryrodu samotnosti toho, chto poryad z toboyu, navazhytysya skynuty vazhki cherevyky, scho zavazhayut′ i zhyty, i dychaty, zachepytysya pohlyadom za syluet malen′koho chlopchyka, zustritysya z tym, pro koho ne zhaduvalosya z chasiv doroslishannya. A nahorodoyu bude spravzhniy snih zi spravzhn′oho neba, chay i ne zovsim korysnyy, ale zh u lyubovy schastya vazhyt′ bil′she za koryst′