Dear 2020, my letter to you.
You give us 4 seasons.
12 months filled with joy.
52 weeks, all peaceful.
365 (366) days bursting with discovery.
But, obviously, every year means the world turns older.
And soon, like every living being, will die.
I hope the cars will not be as many this year.
And the world will survive.
And if people really have to take a car, they will take a bus.
Pollution will be less.
And the world will grow stronger.
A lot of time has gone by since 2010.
I believe this year will be beautiful.
Ezra, 9 years old