A woman gave her newborn grandson to strangers. Heres how it turned out.
When he stepped inside the house, he looked around and recalled that he had already seen this very dwellingin his dreams, along with a woman who resembled the one now facing him. He had such visions when he was a sick child, crying helplessly. The woman in those dreams was faceless, her eyes glowing like tiny lanterns. She frightened him, appearing almost like a specter, and he would sob and call for his mother. She would lie beside him, bless him, and hold him close to her heart.
Life is as it is. A Sower
People have long avoided her home. Orphaned children now run there only for a coins gift, not for a songs crumb. The vodka in Marfas place isnt a brand at allits homemade firewater. When Fedka, the neighbor, finally feels drunk enough to stumble through the village, barely staying upright on all fours, he shouts toward her:
Pour, pour, for luck, health, the new year fill the glass, Marfushka! he babbles.
She fills his cup, then offers a second drink to a guest, hoping it will warm them up. If only Fedka paused to think about his words, the bitter sting of his remarks might soften
Look, Marfushka, were just getting by My wife and I are like two stumps in the forestnothing left for us. No one else is around. And you have a daughter! he protests.
Then stop whining like that rascal Ryabko on a leash! Yes, I have a daughterwho knows where she is, but she exists! So go home and quit your chatter! Get out! she snaps.
Fedka doesnt rush away, though she nearly pushes him off his feet.
I know why youre angry Everyone in the village knows you gave your grandson away to strangers. Tell me its not true! Say it! Do you know what the village women whisper? That the boy you dream about at night haunts you because youre scared right? Scared? Hahaha he mocks, staring into her eyes.
Listen, you stinking drunk! Get lost! Forget this road! Marfa grabs his coat collar, slinging him out like a filthy cat, down the threshold.
Youre crazy, Marfushka! Let me go he pleads, but she holds him tight.
Never again! Hear me! Never come back! she yells after him.
He only manages a weak laugh. He never returned to ask for another drink or a word. Perhaps shame kept him away, perhaps fear. She might have forgiven him now, if only hed again try to sow. After all, he was the only one she considered useful. No one else heard his accusations yet he spoke the truth and she clung to the living memory, however twisted it was.
She truly sees the boy in her dreamsnever his face, only those glowing eyes. He stands at her doorway, asking to be let in, but never steps past the threshold. She has witnessed this vision countless times, whether its a dream or something else.
* * *
By noon the sun was climbing, and Marfa realized Fedka wouldnt show up this time. She recalled last years humiliation and felt the lingering sting of his bottle on her fingertips. She poured herself a drink, thinking it was a holiday.
In the yard a clatter rose, and the old door creaked open. A handsome young man stood at the entrance.
Happy holidays! May you be healthy! May I sow? he announced.
Marfa sprang from her seat, poised like a pioneer, and replied:
Sow, please, now that youre here
Heres to luck and health the stranger muttered, scattering wheatlike words.
She couldnt take her eyes off him; he seemed to scout every corner, as if hunting something. She feared Fedkas return.
What do you need? Are you just here to sow? Who are you looking for? Who will you become? she asked uncertainly.
Its just a sowers work, isnt it? Ill bring my own provisions, he answered, stepping to the table and pulling out wine, sausage, and pastries from his bag.
Stunned, Marfa fetched a roasted pork dish with potatoes from the oven and set a place for the guest, who helped arrange the table with surprising skill.
Probably a relative of Lyudkas, maybe a young man she sent, she thought while serving.
The guest poured wine into glasses, leaving Marfa at a loss for words.
Youre not from around here, are you? Looking for someone? he asked.
Yes Are you Marfa Ivanivna? he inquired.
Thats me, she replied.
Was your husband Petro Ivanovich?
He was he passed away, she answered.
Your daughter Lyudmyla Petrivna?
I dont know anything about her
Yes yes he stammered.
Then you must be my grandson Victor, he declared, standing and extending his hand across the table. Lets be acquainted.
In that instant the boy from her visions surged forward, his eyes identical to those of the dream child, pleading to be let inside.
Marfa screamed, stumbled, but strong hands caught her and settled her onto a bench.
Dont be afraid of me! I have no claims I just wanted to see you all and this house that once rejected me My real mother died recently and told me everything before she passed. Thats why I cameto see.
She felt she was shouting to the entire village, though in truth she merely hiccuped, recounting her past for the first time. Victor stared into her eyes, while she had nowhere to hide them. After she finished, he rose, sighed, glanced around the room, then tossed a parting remark over the threshold:
Live with God He will be your judge, not me
Snow drifted from his cars tires. She could not see his license plate, nor could she ask where he lived. She rushed to the door, breathless, mourning.
* * *
Lyuda grew up obedient and docile.
Become a teacher! her father declared. No marriage until you finish school!
She never thought of marriage, though a suitor had already been chosen by the grooms family. Her mother nudged:
Youre a good catch, Lyuda. Dont stare at village gossip. Andrei in Ilka is a fine boyperfect for you! Hell give you a home, a salary, an apartmenthes not a peasant, hes in the army. By the time you finish school, hell be settled
Even without her mothers hints, Andrei lingered in Lyudas thoughts. He was older, visited during leaves, and the village girls clung to him like bees to honey. Lyuda, though shy, fell for him. He promised to return soon: Just three years, my love. Well write letters, then marry.
She gave her word to wait and correspond.
Soon, however, being a bride proved harder than imagined. At home, Marfa taught her daughter the wisdom of women:
If you ever think of flirting, do it quietly, keep everything under wraps Hold on to Andrei! Not every girl gets such a groom!
Lyuda mused:
Dont sit by the window and cryonly in movies does that happen! When will I see Andrei? Hes far away, he wont know.
She thought of Vovka, who was carefree; neither promised the other anything. She was generous, he was impulsiveboth were satisfied. One day she confided that she intended to marry someone else, not him. He hadnt proposed, but the passionate student turned into a brutal thug, beating her cruelly. The girls barely stopped him.
She healed slowly, hiding bruises, avoiding home, refusing to see anyone. Mothers intuition sensed something was wrong with her daughter. Marfa rushed to the dorm and realized the problem wasnt just the bruisesLyuda was pregnant. Vovka apologized, willing to marry even tomorrow.
Marfa forbade Lyuda from returning to the village, insisting Andrei wasnt there. The future inlaws lived elsewhere; she didnt want anyone noticing. While the scandal stayed hidden, Lyudas father swiftly transferred her to a different university in another city. She dared not defy her parents, fearing what shed done. Near childbirth, Lyuda fell ill. Her parents took her to a secluded clinic, where she was isolated, read books, watched TV, alone in a locked room. They told everyone she suffered from meningitis and might not survive. She stayed there until she gave birth to a healthy boy.
Following her mothers teachings, Lyuda never held the baby, never even looked at him. No one persuaded her otherwise. A young pediatrician tried to speak with her, hoping shed change her mind.
Why would my mother want me to suffer? Lyuda whispered to herself. What does Vovka give me? We arent married, yet he already beat me. The peasant is miserable! Not like Andrei! Hell never know!
She kept writing letters to Andrei, who replied from the village. Her mother wanted the village to know who her fiancé was. He returned as promised, and they held a grand wedding. Marfa beamed with joy.
The newlyweds moved to the city. When they visited, Lyuda bragged about their new home and possessions. Marfa could barely breathe from the shock. Her husband Petro seemed indifferent, as if not sharing his daughters happiness. One night, after drinking at work, he snapped at her, and in a fit of rage he knocked out a tooth.
Silence! he roared, shaking his hands. Youre a whore, not a mother! Why are you happy? You threw away a grandson like a stray dog, and youre not sorry!
Marfa wiped blood from her mouth and hissed at him:
Quiet! Fool! People will hear!
Years passed. Her daughter and soninlaw visited rarely, and a chill grew between them.
Andrei wants children, keeps buzzing around me, her mother complained. I know Ill never have more. They said its after a difficult labor
Does he not understand why? her mother asked.
Hell find out. He talks to doctors all the time! Hes stuck on this. Hell never forgive never! Hell force me to confess! You know his temperament!
Their visits grew sparse. When Lyudas father died suddenly, she came alone, saying she wasnt with Andrei. She gave no details.
Its none of your business, she cut off. I live my way! Dont touch me! I wont listen to you any longer!
Andrei finally arrived, stormed into the house, but didnt enter. She feared hed beat her, yet he only shouted contemptuously:
Youre not human! Cursed be you! How could you abandon a child? Who? Your soul feels nothing! A beast loves its child, but you?! he snarled, throwing the door shut.
Lyuda sometimes arrived with one lover, then another. Marfa scolded her, and eventually Lyuda stopped coming.
Youve ruined my whole life! she once screamed, but now she vowed to live as she wished.
Where does she live now? Does she still live? No one knows. If Marfa had known, she would have given her grandsonVictorher address. He might have wanted to see her.
* * *
For Victor, things finally fell into place as easily as stepping out of a sauna. The torment that had haunted him for months resolved. He knew exactly who he loved and who mattered most.
When his father, a surgeon, died of a heart attack, Victor took over his position at the clinic. Colleagues said the father had passed his golden hands and big heart to his son. Victor idolized his parents and cherished compliments about his likeness to them. The sudden death of his father and his mothers illnessa pediatricianknocked him off his lifes track. He couldnt convince his mother to undergo surgery. During a night shift, he revisited her medical file, combing through every note written years ago, even touching the diagnosis with his finger. How could he have been born after such an operation when the woman could no longer bear children? His heart felt like it would shatter. Who was he? Whose son?
He wrestled with these thoughts for days, then finally dared to act. His mother was fading. He sat beside her, embraced her, and whispered:
Mom I love you so much Dont worry Tell me who I am, where I come from. He placed her medical record before her.
She revealed everything and gave the address where his grandparents and his mother lived.
He didnt rush to them. He mourned his mother, feeling a deep emptiness. He realized no one else could be called mom. He wanted to see the woman who had left him, to learn where she lived, who raised her, whether she was happy. He found a reason to enter a house to sow
When he entered that house, he looked around and remembered he had already seen this very home in his dreams, along with a woman who looked exactly like the one now before him. He had such dreams while he was a sick child, crying. The woman in those dreams was faceless, her eyes lit like tiny lanterns. He feared her, thinking she was a phantom. He would weep and call for his mother, who would lie beside him, christen him, and hold him close to her heart.
