Baba Shura was preparing to go to bed, endlessly removed her black skirts and sweatshirts, strung on top of each other, like gypsies. She was peeked at by Tanya, a curly, eight-year-old girl she hadn’t seen. Left in one sweater and one skirt, Baba Shura crossed herself, sat down on the bed and said:
Oh-ho-ho, holy martyr Alexandra, pray to God for me.
Tankino’s curiosity overcame timidity, and she leaned out of hiding:
— Who was she torturing?
Baba Shura did not understand the question, stared at Tanka, but then laughed:
— What a fool you are, she didn’t torture, she was tortured.
— For what?
For believing in God, I’ll tell you tomorrow, go to bed.
Tanya was in second grade. Its feature was hair that did not have any ordered appearance: not curls, but some kind of explosion on the head. Otherwise, she was just an ordinary girl, that’s when everything is in moderation. After school, she would come home, warm up her lunch and sit alone until the evening, as her mother worked and came quite late, and was very tired. She had a lot to do at home, too, and it never ended. Therefore, Tanya, having learned her lessons, was often bored, not knowing what to do with her, you won’t be alone in playing “shop” or “hospital”.
In the evening, when they went to bed, Tanya asked her mother something interesting to tell her. Mom started, but fell asleep in the middle of a word and Tanya did not wake her up, she understood that it was very difficult for her mother.
One day in November, when Tanya came home from school, her mother told her:
— Tanya, we have a grandmother, Baba Shura, who has no place to live; you will have more fun and I am more comfortable for you.
The same woman Shura came out of the room. Tanya bowed her head to one side and stared at her. Grandma was small and skinny, dressed in all black: a black sweater, a black skirt, a black scarf on her head. The face was wrinkled like a baked apple, and it stood out a large fleshy nose and lower lip.
She was taken away by a small room with only one bed and icons hanging on the wall. Until the evening, Tanya pretended that she was not interested in who Baba Shura was. But when she retired to her bedroom, Tanya began to peek.
The next day, Tanya became a little daring and began to question:
— Baba Shura, where’s your husband, the kids?
Baba Shura pressed her lower lip:
I have no husband, and I have never been, I am the bride of Christ!
Tanya at first became stunned by such impudence, and then, imagining a woman Shura with a big nose and all wrinkled in a white dress and veil, and next to the young and beautiful Jesus Christ, whom she saw on the icons, spouted, and then laughed altogether.
Baba Shura was offended and waited for Tanka to laugh to explain to her what a stupid girl she was.
You see, those girls and women who have never been married to men are considered brides of Jesus Christ himself, our God.
Have you ever kissed someone?
Baba Shura lowered her eyes and sighed:
— Sort of.
Tanya pretended to understand, but since she did not yet know how to think in complex abstract categories, no matter how hard she tried, she could not imagine Baba Shura as the snow-white bride she was used to seeing.
That’s how they met. Tanya quickly realized that now she will not be as bored as before.
When Tanya ran from school, Baba Shura fed her her “branded” dish – potatoes, fried in water in half with vegetable oil, then they washed Antonov’s sour apples, put them in the oven. In the oven crackled firewood, it was warm, outside the window poured rain or snow, they sat down at the table to wait for the baked apples and have long conversations.
Baba Shura, smoothing a kitchen rag of thin bags on the table and putting her brown wrinkled hands on it, began the story. And Tanya, having adopted this habit from her, also smoothed a rag of the same bag, put her little white hands on it and listened.
When Pilate allowed the soldiers to scold Jesus, they decided to play king with him. Dress him in red buffoon clothes, and on his head — a wreath of thorns. But they gave him a stick and kneeled before him, mocked him and said, “Rejoice, King of the Jews, and beat him on the cheeks,” said Baba Shura, and tears flowed down her wrinkled cheeks, and she wiped her cheeks and her large nose with a crumpled plaid handkerchief, which she deftly pulled out of her sleeve.
— What did they beat him for, ba?
— They didn’t believe he was the son of God. That’s why we were bullied.
Then they put wood in the oven, took out apples, sprinkled them with sugar and ate.
There were also misunderstandings. Then they got hot and “sulked” at each other.
For example, Baba Shura said,
God is one, but threefold in persons.
— How’s Snake Gorynych? — Clarified Tanka.
From such blasphemy, Baba Shura almost fainted, waved her hands, baptized herself and at the same time Tanka.
Baba Shura was very devout, knew the Gospel well, often went to church and came from there peaceful. But, despite her piety, she was, firstly, some hooligan grandmother, and, secondly, she was very fond of judging people and telling Tanya about this as the most grateful listener. Tanka knew in detail what women the parish priest Peter was confused with. True, the meaning of the word «confused» Tanya did not understand, but from the tightened lips of the Shurin, she knew that it was a sin, just like women, to talk to men. Shura’s grandmother was confused in her stories. In addition to the priest, her former master, with whom she lived in nannies, was confused until his son grew up and Baba Shura was put out on the street. Confused her sister, who, not only that confused, and even appropriated the whole parental house, and Baba Shura and on the threshold did not let. That is why Baba Shura always lived with strangers.
In addition to conversations, Tanya and Baba Shura had other entertainment. Seeing from the window in the kitchen that their neighbors — Glasha and Kostya — were drunk and a scandal was brewing, Baba Shura rushed into the room and called Tanya «to watch a concert.» Then they stuck together to the window and, pushing each other on their sides, laughed until they fell. Here Glasha enters the door with a bag, but a piece of meat flies out of the window into the mud, then the door opens and from it, with acceleration from the kick given to her, Glash flies out. Then Glasha goes to pick up the meat and walks through the door with it, then the meat flies out the window again, and Glasha goes out the door. And this goes on for a long time, until Glasha realizes that it is necessary to change tactics. Then she throws meat, no longer like meat, at the door, and she goes to the yard to sleep with chickens.
They also liked listening to other neighbors who lived through the wall. Hearing the swearing behind the wall, they ran to the kitchen for large enameled mugs and put them against the wall and ear. Baba Shura didn’t hear well, so she kept pushing Tanka and asking:
— What, what are they saying?
Tanya turned into a hearing and translated:
— Grandpa: you… mat on the letter «B» … while I was in the war, walked … B-mat. Grandma: You asshole… A mat with the letter «e», how would I survive with four children? Grandpa: You better… The B-mat is dead. Grandma: Well, that’s… Mat on the letter «x» to you, asshole. mat with an «e.»
After telling Baba Shura everything, they fell on Shurina’s bed and began laughing, shaking their feet. Then, laughing, and then crossing the icons, Baba Shura said to Tanya:
Call me when Grandpa starts playing «Suffering» on harmonica.
Listening to Grandpa’s «Suffering» was also part of their entertainment program.
And in the evening, Baba Shura and Tanya vyingly told everything to their mother. Mom shook her head and told them — they are not very good, they say, do, listening to the neighbor’s swearing, and even with a mate.
— And we ourselves do not swear, — Tanka was hot, I only tell Baba Shura what letter the mate was.
Baba Shura nodded his head in accordance. Mother could not convince them, and there was no time. And they themselves believed that such entertainment is quite acceptable and, most importantly, fun. It’s a sin to swear, but it’s a sin on grandparents.
Their unity was often interspersed with quarrels. Baba Shura, unable to withstand Tankina’s stupidity, often called her “unspecific” for the fact that she is not given to braid her pigtails, can not, as appropriate, sew a button or not learn to knit socks. After such accusations of specialty, Tanya rested her hands on her sides, squinted her eyes and said for a long time:
Bible-and-and-and says you can’t judge others, only God can judge, and you’re soo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo.
Baba Shura considered criticism fair: she began to be baptized, whispered prayers to herself and sighed hard.
One day Tanya said sadly to Baba Shura, leaving for school:
Today is a math test and I don’t know anything about it.
“Go, don’t be afraid, I will pray for you, everything will be fine,” said Baba Shura very seriously and authoritatively.
And Tanka happily ran away to school. But she came from school blacker than the cloud, and without looking at Baba Shura, threw her briefcase into the corner:
— You must have cracked your forehead. Only I got a two for some reason.
Baba Shura turned very red, apparently forgot to pray for Tanka, or the Lord caught their cunning conspiracy.
Once again, Tanya was very offended by Baba Shura because of the rooster. One day she, wearing a red coat over her shoulders and a hat, was returning from the yard toilet, and their rooster began to pounce on her. Tanya first covered her face with her hands, then rushed to run, getting bogged down in the mud and losing on the battlefield coats, galoshes and a hat, which flew into the mad rooster. And Baba Shura at the same time stood on the threshold and laughed, pointing at Tanya with her finger. I was dying of laughter. Tanya did not talk to her until the evening. But then Baba Shura called her to bake apples, promising to tell her once again how Christ was crucified and how he ascended to heaven, and Tanya forgot her offense.
She, in general, could not resent Baba Shura for a long time and forgave her everything for the fact that she always, when Tanya went to bed, approached her, baptized and said:
Lord, save and preserve your servant Tatiana.
That’s how they lived. It’s summer. Once Baba Shura mistakenly poured poison for Colorado beetles out of a bucket for chickens. And with horror, they watched as drinking this water, the chickens, one by one, fell like sloping, upside down. When my mother came from work and saw dead chickens, she listened to the stuttering woman Shura and said nothing. But she should have scolded them with Tanka, and it was even worse. Baba Shura was ill from his oversight, and Tanya felt sorry for Baba Shura. She saw how Shura sighed, fussed and tried to add something else to her story to her mother, and she all shrugged off her. They lived modestly and the loss of all chickens at once was a serious loss to their farm.
In the end, the upset Shura went to her room. Tanya sat down next to her and sighed and said:
— You’re so special, Grandma Shura.
These words made Shura cry. After her, unable to withstand the heat of passions, Tanka roared. Mom came in and looked at them.
— Sitting around, roaring around. Come on, let’s go, I brought you some dinners.
They dried: Baba Shura — a large plaid handkerchief from the sleeve, and Tanya — just a sleeve and followed her. My mother began to unwrap rustling paper, which contained strange fruits or vegetables of yellow-green color, long, pointed at one end.
«Here, bananas are called,» said my mother, «eat.» She showed me how to clean them. After eating a banana, Baba Shura said:
— Soap.
No, said Tanka, it’s delicious.
And they began to argue: soap or tasty, forgetting about the dead chickens, which, having sighed for the last time, went to collect in a bag mother.
It’s been four years. Tanya was twelve years old when her mother told her:
— You know, Baba Shura City Executive Committee allocated a meager room in the basement with a stove and Baba Shura goes to live there. Looking at Tanya, she added: She has long wanted to have her own corner. Don’t worry, we’ll be visiting her.
When Baba Shura left and her mother went to work, Tanya sat on a wide window sill by the window that overlooked their yard, and cried for a long time with the rain that poured and poured from the dark lead sky. She felt unhappy for the first time. The oven was melting, but Tanya didn’t want to bake apples. There is no one to eat with with sugar.
She and her mother visited Baba Shura only twice. The first time they visited her was when Shura was healthy and cheerful. She fed them with her potatoes on the water in half with butter, gave them liquid tea, asked a lot and told herself.
And the second time they were at her, when my mother was told that Baba Shura was dying.
When they bowed down and entered her pitiful room, Shura lay on the bed. There was no light, there was a lamp in the corner in front of the icons. The shura was very small, pale. On the face, still stood out only a large fleshy nose and lower lip. Mom sat on her bed. Shura opened her eyes and barely said:
— I’m going to God tonight.
Mom took her hand:
— Maybe you’ll get better, let me flood your stove, eat something.
But Baba Shura shook her head negatively, looked at Tanya for the last time and closed her eyes.
As they were walking home, wet snow fell with flakes. He lay down on Tanya’s face and melted, so no one saw her cry, not even her mother. She went and remembered how Grandma Shura laughed when Tanka was running away from the rooster, and how together they were filled with laughter, eavesdropping on neighbors: Grandma Frosya and Grandpa Kostya, how she was angry with her, Tanya, and called unspecific, as she told her about God. And yet, the soul that lived in Tanina, the hope that, having prayed before bedtime, Baba Shura always added: Lord, save and preserve your servant Tatiana.
“Kingdom of heaven to you, Baba Shura, may your heavenly groom forgive you all your sins,” Tanya said aloud as she approached the house and wiped her wet face with a mitten.
— What? — I didn’t hear my mother.
— That’s me, with myself.
Galina Ermakova
The Holy Land Charitable Foundation
Soul investment!
Orthodox stories from life
