Scandura Stejar | Dedeman

Andrei smiled. “My first salary. From the factory. The old roof comes down tomorrow.”

It was — oak shingles. Not the cheap, treated pine, but genuine, solid Romanian oak. Each shingle was dark honey in color, with tight, wavy grains that told of a century of slow growth. The label read: Solid. Durability: 60+ years. scandura stejar dedeman

When the last shingle was laid, the sun hit the roof like a struck bell. The oak glowed a deep, fiery orange—more beautiful than any tile or sheet metal. Andrei smiled

“It’s too much,” he whispered, looking at the price. The old roof comes down tomorrow

He looked up at the ceiling, dry for the first time in twenty years, and smiled.

“,” he muttered, raising a cup of tea to the empty room. “You sold me a roof. But the boy gave me a home.”