По образованию я химик и юрист. Сейчас занимаюсь переводами, пишу рассказы и статьи. Мечтаю написать роман. «Мамины молитвы» — это первый рассказ, написанный мной много лет назад на русском языке. Теперь я его перевела на английский. Мне не пришлось ничего придумывать. Я просто записала то, что происходило в нашей жизни. Надеюсь, что Вам понравится.
Короткий рассказ «Тhe prays of my mum«
We never locked the doors of our house, at least, until daddy was alive. And though because of his illness, he more than twenty years was chained to invalid seat, nevertheless, there was a man in the house. I have never met a person with such a will power like him.
In spite of his diagnosis “multiple sclerosis” which meanwhile is incurable, he sincerely believed that he would recover and constantly made plans for the future. I think that the reason of his inexhaustible optimism was the merry temper of my mum, whom he worshipped.
Not surprisingly, indeed she was beautiful. So many men tried to obtain her love. She easily could arrange her life. But she did not even think about it. Indeed, she knew that, if she was sick, the father would do the same for her.
In that winter оur life was pretty hard, however, as well as the life of all inhabitants of Armenia. Because of war and blockade my poor small country suffered cold, hunger and unemployment.
Тhere were no fuel, no electricity and gas in the country. In addition to all that winter was particularly severe. Because of abundance of snow on streets it was hard to move. Notice, to move on foot, overcoming big distances, as the transport in the city actually did not work.
Only a piano remained from entertainments lit with the light falling from an old oil lamp, which helped to while away the long winter evenings somehow.
As usual without knocking at door and with words, — “How are you, friends of mine!”, — noisily entered mother’s friend. Her name was Ada. She was the wife of a talented painter, but now when there was the acute issue of daily bread no one had any need for his paintings.
— “You know what today Jobik did?” — she continued merrily (Jobik was name of her dog) –“So, in recent days we have fed her badly, evidently, deciding that we ourselves have nothing to eat, she dragged the bone which she hid under snow and put it to my feet.” It was very touching. Ada chatted up with us for a few more minutes and went about her business.
In the evening, closing stove door mum said dejectedly: “It was the last firewood. I do not know that we will do tomorrow? Your father will entirely freeze and, besides, the food supplies gave out”. My sister and me silently shared a look, vainly trying to find words, in order to encourage mum somehow. Karin, my younger sister, still was in school, and I was a university student at that time. When I was in my first year of university I attended evening classes and worked by day, but now because of the energy crisis we had to study during the day.
— “Mum, I will go to look for a job tomorrow. May be I will get lucky.“- I said.
-” Do not worry please “- twittered Karin, tenderly embracing mum for shoulders, — “We’ll figure something out, won’t we? “But mum did not answer. She was engaged in the pray that was always said by whisper before going to bed.
In the morning we were woken by the knocking at the door. We hurried to open it. There was an unfamiliar woman standing outside the door.
— “Good morning, — She said, — I live in neighbourhood across the street. We have purchased firewood, but there is no room in our apartment for it. If you let us put them in your shed, then half of the wood will be yours.“- She pointed to the truck standing behind her and added, — There are also two more bags of potatoes, which we will be happy to share as well. “
I do not know whether it was a gift from a Magi, or maybe God heard the prayers of my mother, but only thanks to that firewood and potatoes we experienced that hard winter.