Once a month I come to visit my parents. It is sacred. On this arrival, Peter met me with a pretty pleasant weather and I decided to walk around the places of my youth. The memories flooded like a huge wave: here we walked, here I cleaned someone’s mouth, and there they cleaned me.
Young man, can you help me bring my bag to the stop? An unknown voice brought me back to reality.
I turned to the voice. She was an old woman, but well dressed. Next to her was a large bag on wheels, red, in a cage. With such bags, older people usually go shopping. The bag lacked one wheel.
“She came out of the store, went down the stairs and it fell,” she said with regret, as if apologizing.
– Where are you going? – I asked and took the handbag.
The upper part of the bag moved away a little and I saw a large bag of cat food. The bag was quite heavy and, in addition, the absence of one wheel made it quite difficult to move. I imagined how she would continue to drag her...
“Your cat has a good appetite,” I joked and sneered at the food. The old lady was a little confused.
“I have seven cats at home, and they also have a very good appetite – I got my iPhone and showed her my home zoo.
“I’ll take the bag to the nearest stop, and how are you going with it?” I asked and suggested.
My car is parked nearby. Let me take you home. Who else will take care of us besides each other?
After a short deal, she agreed and we went to the car. We talked along the way.
The war caught her, a six-year-old girl and her mother in Ukraine. The local population did not pay foreigners very much, so my mother decided to try to return home, if not to Leningrad, then at least to the territory of Russia. In addition, her father was an officer and the Germans encouraged the local population to give them military families.
The world is not without good people and in one village they were sheltered for a few days. When the Germans entered the village, she hid her mother. During the sudden inspections, they were dropped into the basement. In order for the girl not to be afraid of rats, the owner dropped a cat with her. The warm and furry animal heated and calmed the urcha.
They managed to get to Ryazan, but the happiness was short: in a short time the Germans occupied the Ryazan region. It was difficult time. Not my aunt. Food was not always there, and when it was, it was not always enough. She went looking for food on the street and at the laundry near the market, where the sellers dropped the garbage.
“It’s a bit of me for my mom,” she said as if apologizing to the street cats, who were also looking for food there.
Sometimes cats left her waste, and sometimes they fled with them. At this point, she, a six-year-old, promised herself that if she and her mother survived, she would always help the homeless cats.
They and their mother survived and the six-year-old still keeps her promise. She took out a thick notebook from the pocket of the bag where a careful emphasis was recorded how many cats, in what yard and how much food is needed.
After pulling the bag to the door, I abandoned the tea offered, quickly said goodbye, wished good luck to the cats and returned to the car. I knew the apartment number. Just throw a envelope in your mailbox with the signature "This is for your cats."
If one of you, walking around Peter, sees an old lady with a bag on wheels and a thick notebook whispering under her nose:
Candle street, house 20 - 3 cats, Kolomenskaya 9 - 2 cats, just help her bring the bag. She is really heavy.