"Kristina was a smart girl. She graduated from our Gorlovka Institute of Foreign Languages. I wanted to achieve a lot in life. She loved her little girl Kirochka very much, she wanted so much and was waiting for her birth. Even when she walked with her tummy all the time she said:" When will Kirochka appear. " I knew how the baby would be called, what she would be.
When Kirochka was born, Christina did not let her go. Kira sang songs endlessly – in the morning she woke up and shouted from the bedroom: "Bah! Bah!" – and began to sing songs. Our neighbors all laughed, because from the first day we constantly sang songs to her. The neighbors asked, they say, who sings there? I sang, Christina sang. She put on French songs and Kirochka was already humming something.
There is still a feeling that they just went out for a walk and now come back, and in the evening I will grumble that, they say, you returned so late, because it's time to swim. Every time they delayed, they came and shouted: "Hurray! Grandma, we learned to crawl!" or "Hurray! Grandma, we have learned to walk!", "Hurray! We made the first wreath!" Kirochka just learned to walk. In this park, they walked 2-3 times a day, they almost never left, there, in this grass, they learned how to crawl and walk. They lived in this park and died there.
– I fall into the grass and howl like a she-wolf, and when people appear, I get up and hold on. I leave the city and again howl and howl. Before, everything was necessary: you walk through the store, and you needed a hairpin and a toy. And now – emptiness. You walk and you don't need anything, nothing at all (crying – author's note). You don't need to eat or drink, you don't need this beauty. "