"Just like in every neighborhood.....us kids were convinced that it was because she was a witch (or something like it)......none of us wise enough (or smart enough) to realize it was because she was a little old lady...and lived alone...that the house looked like that.
One day ,as kids (especially dumb ones) will do, we called her names as we passed by her house. The whole group of us. You could see the hurt (it was evident to even us) in her eyes.
Well....another neighbor called my dad about what had happened. When I got home....my dad was waiting. After having a rather frank discussion about what we kids did....he told me we were going on a visit.
A visit to the little old lady.
The closer we got to her house...the more afraid I got. After all....we were going into the house of a witch...or something like that. All the rumours of what happened to little children....all the things that could happen...especially by witches (or something like that) ran thru my head.
Well...we got there.....and (to my shock and amazement)...my dad and the little old lady KNEW each other...called each other by their first names...and...acted like they LIKED each other!!!!
Well....we had us a little 'get-together' around her kitchen table. She sounded nice....she sounded like she was 'normal'. We all agreed to get along....that I would help the other kids know that she was OK. She served lemonade and chocolate chip cookies...she said it would 'seal the deal'.
...and my dad offered my services to clean up her yard. I could look forward to days and days (turned out to be years and years) of pulling weeds...and mowing....and painting.
Well...the next weekend...I was there on Saturday morning (bright and early) weeding and mowing and cleaning up her yard. Around noon she came out with lemonade...and chocolate chip cookies (fresh baked).
...and the following Monday...on our way to school...there she was....as our little group of kids passed by her house...with a fresh plate of chocolate chip cookies. (naturally....all of us ate the cookies...it's what kids do)
I was still learning Russian, knew little Ukrainian. A neighbor lady spoke German, and since I had lived six years in Germany, I was comfortable in that language and relied on her a lot.
She was a retired actress, living in a two-room flat on Solomnyansk street. Her pension was offset by and a stipend from a foreign film she played in, so she always had champagne and interesting stories whenever I came over for my Russian lessons. And neat pastries called 'zharonki' or something like that, with notes inside like fortune cookies.
One story she had was great: a neighbor woman once called her a witch, so the old woman decided to played a prank on her. She walked past the neighbor, entered the apartment building, went up to her fourth-floor apartment, and from the other side of the building jumped from balcony to balcony to the ground. Then she walked past the neighbor, went upstairs, and did it again. The third time she walked past, the neighbor jumped up and ran off, crossing herself frantically. And the old woman did these acrobatics at 80 years of age!
She had a bad habit of crossing the street above ground, refusing the underground crosswalks. I figured she'd been mugged down there, or didn't like the smell of wino urine. From her obituary, however, I found out that she'd been a prisoner in Siberia, working the mines... and that she couldn't bear to be underground after that. I also found out that before the revolution she had been a duchess.
Wish that I'd spent more time listening to her, and less in the bars.
Memorial Day Cookies from redrock ~ Bump!
Lest We Forget!