The charisma of creativity resided in our small Russian apartment in different forms. The Siberian rocks fragments with mineral traces (parenting research) blended with variety of books on shelves that run from floor level all the way to a celing and mom’s sewing/embroidery project as well as dad’s poetry. My first participation in form of my opinion was promoted to the mom’s assistant of handing the right tool or placing a decorative element. At the age of six, she put a needle in my hands, like it was the most precious instrument; my dolls’ garments stand out with curvy stitches. Later projects originated from plain social economic. the black school uniform earned a lace collar, pants – a cuff, a dress – an embroidery, a purse -design. family, friends, and neighbors became clients as my dedication was divided between nursing occupation also. The immigration to the US struck me with possibilities. But wait, where are the words? I began to write while mastering the language. i wrote every day to express my deepest thoughts and feelings; it became my counselor, a friend, a tutor. After some devastating events many new verses emerged within one year; I read them at a social gathering and finally planted “Salvage Garden”- a garden of the most significant feelings and things in life. “Formula of Love”, “Solitude”,”Lullaby”,and even “Cat” are there! Everyone should stroll there and find own flower.