Who are you looking for? Maria Fyodorovna said as she and Mykola stepped onto the porch, eyeing the visitor. Im here for Maria Fyodorovna! Im her granddaughter, more precisely her greatgranddaughter. Im the granddaughter of OleksiyMaria Fyodorovnas eldest son.
Maria Fyodorovna sat on a sundrenched bench, savoring the first warm days of spring. At last the season had arrived, though only God knew how she had survived the bitter winter.
Not another winter! she thought, sighing with relief. She no longer feared leaving the house; she even welcomed the chance. Her garden was already full of beans, and she had bought new clothes. Nothing could keep Maria Fyodorovna rooted to this world.
***
Once she had a large familya husband, Fyodor Ivanovich, a tall man, and four children: three boys and a girl. They lived harmoniously, helped one another, and quarreled little. As the children grew, they each scattered to different places.
The two older sons entered institutes and later moved to cities for work. The middle son struggled at school, but eventually built a successful business that took him abroad, where he stayed. The daughter left the village, flew to the capital, and soon married.
At first the children visited often, wrote letters, and after mobile phones arrived they called regularly. One by one the grandchildren arrived. Maria Fyodorovna would occasionally pack an old, battered suitcase and go to one of the childrens homes as a nanny.
Gradually the grandchildren outgrew her care. Calls became rarer, visits even rarer. Eventually the children stopped thinking about coming to see her; work, families, and their own growing children consumed them.
The only reason anyone returned to the family house was the news of Fyodor Ivanovichs death. He had seemed a robust man who might have lived to a hundred, yet the reality proved otherwise.
After the funeral the children drifted apart. At first they called their mother, but the calls soon ceased. Maria Fyodorovna tried calling herself, quickly realizing the younger generation no longer reached out, and she withdrew. That was how the next ten years passed. Once a year a child would remember her, call, and she would spend a week smiling to herself.
One day, while Maria Fyodorovna sat on the bench lost in thought, a young man appeared over the fence, grinning. Hello, Aunt Maria! he called. Dont you remember me?
She squinted. Mykola? Is that you?
Yes, Aunt Maria! the boy exclaimed, stepping into the yard.
Mykola was the son of neighbors who could not go a day without a feast. Maria Fyodorovna recalled him well; he was always the perpetually hungry child. Out of pity she fed him, gave him the childrens leftover clothes, and let him stay the night when his parents were out partying.
Mykolas parents didnt live long; they passed away, and he was taken elsewhere. From that moment Maria Fyodorovna never saw him again and missed him dearly.
Where have you been all this time, Mykola? she asked eagerly.
First an orphanage, then I served, then studied. Now Im back in my little homeland, ready to revive my native village! he replied.
What are you going to revive? Maria Fyodorovna waved her hand. Everyone has left.
Nothing! I wont disappear!
Thus a new chapter began for Maria Fyodorovna. Mykola found work with Ivanich, the biggest farmer in the village. In his spare time he repaired the old cottage he inherited from his parents and never forgot Maria Fyodorovna, helping with chores. She delighted in his company, never calling him son, and they spent three years together.
One day Mykola announced, Im leaving, Aunt Maria. Ivanich is greedyhe wants work but refuses to pay. Im going to earn money elsewhere. Dont be angry!
Go with God, Mykola, she replied.
She was alone again, sometimes feeling tearful from loneliness, but something always held her to the world.
****
Hello, Aunt Maria! a familiar voice called. Maria Fyodorovna turned to the fence and saw a recognizable face.
Mykola! Is it really you?
I am, Aunt Maria! a tall, welldressed young man entered the yard. Im back! At last!
Oh, what joy! Maria Fyodorovna exclaimed. Come in, Mykola! Ill put the kettle on right away!
The kettles perfect, Mykola smiled. Im just heading home now. I didnt expect to catch you, so I didnt bring any treats!
Half an hour later, a happy Maria Fyodorovna and an equally happy Mykola sat at the table, sipping tea from delicate antique cups, hardly able to stop talking.
Im already preparing for the afterlife, Mykola, Maria Fyodorovna said, wiping a tear.
Dont even think about it! the young man joked, waving his finger. Im back, and well live together, Aunt Mariaeveryone will be jealous! Ive earned money and will develop my own farm. Youll see, Ill stay forever!
A bright, girlish voice interrupted their conversation. Maria Fyodorovna looked out the window and saw a girl in a short coat and highheeled shoes.
Who are you looking for? Maria Fyodorovna and Mykola stepped onto the porch, eyeing the guest.
Im looking for Maria Fyodorovna. Im her granddaughter, actually her greatgranddaughter. Im the granddaughter of OleksiyMaria Fyodorovnas eldest son, the girl introduced herself.
The woman and the boy exchanged glances.
I called, but the phone was off, so I came here on a whim! she explained.
Come in! Maria Fyodorovna invited, a little flustered, while Mykola rushed to help with her suitcase.
They watched Vira, the newcomer, spread out a feast shed brought and begin to tell her story.
I dislike the city. I want to live in the village, but my parents dont understand. Grandfather Oleksiy suggested I stay with you for a few months. He said if I live here, Ill never want to leave. He called you, my father called, I called, but we could never connect. Please forgive me! I wont be a burden; I have money, and your father and grandfather sent hospitality! Ill stay until the semester endsIm studying remotely, then Ill go back!
Stay as long as you like, Maria Fyodorovna finally said. It makes me happy!
A month passed. Maria Fyodorovna watched Vira skilfully work the garden, looking anything but citydweller. With Mykolas help, Vira retilled the longneglected plot, divided it into beds, erected a greenhouse, bought seedlings from neighbours, and joyfully began planting.
Mykola, too, was busy. With his earnings he started building a modern farm and hired workers to repair Maria Fyodorovnas roof and replace the stove with individual heating.
Maria Fyodorovna beamed. Her smile never left her face; she was no longer alone.
Occasionally a shadow of sadness crossed her features when she thought Vira would soon leave. She had grown very attached to her greatgranddaughter, but time moved on and Vira planned to return to the city.
How will I manage the garden alone, Vira? Maria Fyodorovna sighed, packing pies for her greatgranddaughters journey.
Just dont forget to fill the water barrel, Grandma. Mykola will water the garden, and Ill be back to harvest! Vira replied with a smile.
Youll really come back? Maria Fyodorovna asked, delighted.
Of course! I cant leave this place completely. I love you, Grandma, with all my heart. Mykola even proposedan autumn wedding! How can I be without a husband? Hes a true country man!
A year later, Maria Fyodorovna basked in the sun, rocking a stroller with a sleeping greatgreatgrandson. Vira and Mykola were on the farm, and together they made the farm thrive, benefitting the whole village.
Looking at the sweetsleeping infant, Maria Fyodorovna thought, Im not ready to go to the afterlife yet. I still have children to help.
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