A young girl shared the history of her learning learning with us. Her story is placed below.
I have long wanted to go to driving courses, and now the dream came true. School chose the one closer to the house. At first there was a continuous theory, lectures, records – everything, as in school. The same chalk, the same rag on the board, the same desks. The rules of the road were memorized by me without much difficulty, but most importantly, it was possible to understand the real importance of these laws. Their knowledge means our safety. I believed this and believe in holy, and I am pushing others. And traffic rules since then have become my favorite book. In general, everything went great until the time has come for practical classes. Late for the first lesson, I literally ran to the instructor. Another moment – and I’m lying in the mud. The teacher came up, gave his hand, took out a handkerchief from his pocket, put me in order. But what to do with a combat mood? He came to naught. Sitting in a car next to the teacher, I tried to move off, which, fortunately, I succeeded very easily. You need to take into account my first stay in my life. Two or three circles were committed with the instructor, going around the driving school. The lesson of the one ended. The second, the third lessons and almost all subsequent ones did not bring me relief and did not increase my mood. It seemed – everything, you have to run out of here headlong. The instructor did not meet, he studied with me standardly, did not go beyond the scope of the plans. Having traveled like that for some time, I suddenly looked at the situation differently: why everyone around was dazzling as they want, and I’m afraid to do the movement? Rethinking my position, I became more confident and impudent. Finally, the case moved from a dead point. Yes, so that soon I was already able to very quickly and freely call into an imaginary garage, park and do other maneuvers. Training switched to the main routes of the city. There will be something to recall once during movement was indignant one of the parts of the car. The breakdown did not interfere, and I completely forgot about it. The instructor ordered to call in one of the yards and left. I was alone when a stranger approached the car, asking to open the window. I opened. I look – his knife is in his hand! While consciousness was returning to me, the man managed to repair the same broken thing. It turns out that this instructor sent my friend to my aid. Exams came. Theory was given to me without problems. It was worse with practice. It was in winter, and the car stalls, the handbrake refused. But the traffic police officers reacted humanly, helped and explained that it was incomprehensible.
