My Broken Horse and a New Life on Avito

Everyone had their own treasures in childhood. Toys that became best friends, witnessed the most incredible adventures. My faithful companion, my first true love in the world of toys, was a horse. Not just a horse, but a steed from my imagination, a conqueror of unexplored steppes and a faithful companion in the fight against all childhood fears.

She was made of sturdy, slightly worn plastic, and her mane of threads had once been lush, but now it was a little disheveled. The beady eyes stared ahead intently, as if always ready for a new race. But time is inexorable. And so, after many battles, falls from sofas and countless trips on the carpet, she was seriously injured. One of her legs broke off.

It was like losing a friend to me. I tried to "heal" it, glue it, but the glue was too weak, and the leg was too expensive. The horse remained standing on three legs, sadly bowing its head. She could no longer participate in my games, and new, more complete toys gradually took her place. But I couldn't throw it away. She had so many memories, so many laughs and tears. She became a symbol of my childhood, its carefree days and the first disappointments.

The years passed. I grew up, and the toys gradually went to the attic, into boxes that no one had touched for many years. One day, while sorting through old things, I came across that very box. And among the dolls and cars, there was my broken horse. I saw glimpses of those childhood days on her battered plastic, and my heart sank.

I looked at it for a long time. There was so much pain in her, but also so much love. It was a pity that she would remain forgotten, broken. And then a thought came to me. In today's world, where things are taking on new life thanks to the Internet, maybe my horse can also find its new owner?

I remembered about Avito, a marketplace where people sell and buy a variety of things. Fear and doubt warred in me. How do I sell a broken toy? Won't they laugh at me? But the desire to give her a chance overcame her.

I took some photos. I tried to show her from all sides, honestly reflecting all her "flaws". I wrote a description under the photos. "A racehorse with a story. One leg is lost, but her soul is full of courage and loyalty." I was being honest. I didn't want to cheat, I wanted to find someone who would truly appreciate her.

And, to my surprise, the messages started. Not all of them were serious, but one of them turned out to be the one that hooked me. The man wrote that he collects old toys, and even with defects, they have a special value for him, as pieces of the past. He was interested in the history of the horse, asked clarifying questions.

We made an appointment. When he arrived, a middle-aged man with kind eyes and clearly passionate about his hobby was standing in front of me. He carefully picked up the horse and examined it as if it were a precious artifact. He said that it is not the ideality that is important to him, but the soul of a thing, its history. He saw in my horse not just a broken toy, but an object that holds the warmth of children's hands and the echoes of childhood dreams.

Saying goodbye, I felt a strange mixed feeling. On the one hand, the sadness of saying goodbye to a part of my past. On the other hand, there is joy and relief. My horse will find a new life, a new collection, where she will not be judged for a broken leg, but will be appreciated for her uniqueness.

When he left, I felt that not only the toy had found a new life, but also myself. I realized that even broken things have their own value, and that honesty and openness can lead to the most unexpected and enjoyable encounters. My broken horse, sold on Avito, became not just an object of purchase and sale, but a bridge between the past and the future, between childhood dreams and an adult understanding of the value of things. And that, I think, is the best thing that could have happened to her.