1968. Odessa. Late autumn. It’s cold and damp outside. I’m 5 and a half years old. I’m sitting at the window of our communal apartment on 13 Gogol Street, staring at the roof of the house across the street. It’s always interesting. After yesterday’s rain, the sun never looked out. The trembling sparrows, pompously, cling to each other, sitting on the very edge of the roof.
Mom says that we need to go to the store and buy something to eat (for tea) for 3 rubles left until her paycheck and grandfather’s pension. We need to go now because it’s going to get dark soon and we’re not going anywhere.
I reluctantly get off my chair and get dressed. I don’t want to leave sparrows unattended, but I love going to the store with my mom.
The refrigerator is almost empty, and we will not even have anything to drink tea with. That’s what Grandma says.
We leave the entrance and head towards the Central deli on Deribasovskaya.
Wet leaves stick to your shoes. I try to step on them so that they stick. It’s such a game. I always play it.
The sky is cloudy. I look up to see a tiny ray of sunshine. But he’s gone. The wind rips the last leaves off bare branches.
I really want to get home soon.
The road to the deli goes through the City Garden, so we usually cut the corner.
Without reaching literally a few meters to the City Garden, right on the ground, on greasy cardboard, a beggar with a disability sits and begs for alms.
My heart shrinks with pity and falls somewhere down.
We’ll buy some food and go back to our warm communal apartment. An apartment with a burgundy stove in the corner, where the flames dance cheerfully, and the grandfather throws coals there every now and then.
My grandfather is a retired military doctor, major and artist. And I love it!
But someday there will be a separate story.
Mom will make sandwiches with purchased butter and doctor’s sausage.
And we’ll eat them. And drink hot Ceylon tea.
Sugar.
And this poor man will stay here hungry and cold. He probably won’t even have anywhere to go. It’s better to fester. It’s all going through my baby’s head in a second.
Mom, I’m pulling my mom’s sleeve.
— Let’s give him something!
Mom looks at me with disapproval.
— Natasha, but that’s all we have! If we give him the last three rubles, we will not be able to buy anything. (Three rubles in 1968 was one piece of paper.)
And we’ll just have tea. Even without sugar!
But I do not give up, I am determined and willing to drink even unsweetened tea.
— Mom, please!
My mother gives up a little under my pressure.
Do you really want to give him three rubles?
Yes!!!
— Well, if that’s your decision, give it to me! And my mom pulls it out of my wallet and hands me the last crumpled thrash. Yay! I run to a disabled person and gladly hand him the cherished paper!!!
To say he was surprised is to say nothing! Now, I realize he was just being taken aback. Three roubles were not given to the poor at the time. Especially the last three roubles.
But he didn’t know it, and I didn’t understand it then either. My father thanked me and looked me in the eye.
I remember glowing with happiness! And even the weather didn’t seem so cold and nasty. So when my mother asked me, «Do you want to run in the garden or go home?» I immediately agreed to run.
In the City Garden at this time of year, a rather dull picture opened up to the eye.
Naked trees. Upside down benches. Rare passers-by just shortened their way home to avoid making a hook.
There was absolutely nothing to do there other than running around a broken fountain or jumping on inverted benches. At the time, jumping on the benches seemed like the right thing to do. My mom was standing nearby waiting for me to finish my marathon.
I was running and jumping from bench to bench, and I thought I saw that tiny ray of sunshine. My heart was back and I wanted to run and jump again and again! And even sing for joy.
» How wonderful that we gave this poor uncle 3 rubles, now he will have something to eat! Jumping over to another bench, on the ground, in a pile of wet autumn leaves, I suddenly noticed some crumpled piece of paper. I picked it up and turned it around. And I didn’t believe my eyes!!
It was 5 rubles!!!
— Maaaaaaaaah! I found 5 rubles!!!
Mom was amazed!
How? Where? It can’t be! ??!!????
She was always very emotional.
We went to the Central Deli. And they bought a doctor’s sausage. And butter. And sugar.
And even ice cream! And something else, I don’t remember. It was already dark on the way back. I was looking for the guy I gave the three to. But he was no longer in his former place. He must have gone to buy food.
At home, we drank delicious Ceylon tea with sugar. And sandwiches. And then I ate ice cream. And my mom told this story to my grandparents.
Many years have passed since then. Nothing has changed in my mind.
I am still very grateful to my mother for allowing me to give three rubles.
The Holy Land Charitable Foundation
Soul investment!
Orthodox stories from life
