It was 1949, after the war. I was studying in medical university and at summer, as usual, back home, helping my parents.
We were on the
farm working with other girls.
My aunt ran
to me, sweating from the long run.
“Where's is
your mother?! A man from Moscow is looking for her. Go, met him, he is in my
house. Wear this."
She said,
breathing heavily and pushing me her the best blouse.
At that
time, Moscow was another reality, something we all rely on. The capital of our
country.
I fast walk
home thinking why someone from Moscow is looking for my mother.
I opened
the door at my aunt's house and there's was a young man sitting at the table.
And when I
looked at him, he stood up and nodded.
I felt like
a basket of cold water was thrown over me. Fresh, cool feeling, refreshing at
hot summer day.
I kind of
froze a little from that feeling.
He told me
after, he had the same feeling.
He was
dressed in the suit, and was wearing hat. He had tiny smell of cologne. And
looked very different from the men here.
He had
gentle, soft look. His hand, when he shacked mine, was soft too.
“I have
this letter" – he said.
I read the
letter. Some one was asking my mother to help this young former soldier and
heal him.
After, I
understood, he was in the battle, in the tank, riding it. The tank was shot in
the battle and exploded leaving this man with many injuries.
My mother
got home. We went to our house. She looked at him, at me and said: “I will help
you".
He was
living with us for one year. After a while he invited me to Moscow to see his family.
