I grew up in a communist country. Before I even could understand what envy is, I knew it was bad.
I heard all those stories from my grandparents, with the good girl and the bad girl, the good farmer and the good farmer - and the good ones were never envious.
Growing up I was still feeling envy sometimes. Maybe no envy in a strict sense of the word but longing for things that I did not have and I saw other children using. Like, all kinds of food, for example.
My parents were no members of the one and only political party, the communist one.
My family was not communist in a sea of communist families . For a long time I did not even know what to make of that - or why it was important - but at school I was painfully made aware of it almost everyday by the children and teachers.
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