Outside was winter, I could hear the wind blowing in our windows, dark outside.
My grandmother was talking on the phone and laughing.
And she returned home from her hospital without sleeping for two days.
A top doctor and most of the time I saw her at her hospital office.
Still she was always happy, full of enedgy,
The same like my great grandmother, who remembered Russian Social Revolution in 1917, and two wars.
I was reading about the book about three little pigs.
My teacher in school said no more communist books my grandfather read to me.
The "Three little pigs" book seemed endless,
I was skipping pages, falling a sleep.
My great grandmother was so interested in what would happen to the pigs,
That I knew she would ask me to read something else.
Then I said:
One day I will write a book about you.
My grandmother laughed:
Don't mention me!
And I thought may be one day I will write about them,
Women from a small village who went against poverty, difficult times, public rules and did what considered to be impossible...
