About the great luck of our childhood somehow then was not thought. And they were - a warm and cozy home, a full family, mom, dad, grandfather and grandmother, who loved and indulged you - and it seemed that it would always be so.
In my childhood there was another great luck, a great success, which I was able to realize much later, when the joy of constant communication with this person ended and turned into the joy of meetings several times a year. The rare luck of my childhood is a nanny. No, not at all, Mary Poppins ...
Born from under Dankov, kind and absurd, loud and sentimental, grown up as an orphan, hardworking to selflessness, with five classes of rural school, wise with ancestral, deep female wisdom. Lost a fiancé in a war, who never married, raised my father, did not have her children, and therefore loved me as her own and called me in conversations with neighbors and friends “our girl”.
“Our girl is Taka good, Taka is good, hardworking, golden character,” it was said in public, apparently, to create publicity for the “girl”. At home, they could even shout at me because I didn’t do my homework, I’m showing my character and I think about “everything about the bread of heaven”.
It was worth, sitting at the table, open a book laid on top of the textbook, as the nurse appeared with a plate of pies, looked intently at the page and concluded: “Again you are reading useless books, so I’ll tell my father something that you don’t solve your equation, be it three times wrong. It is not clear what the girl is loading, only to spoil her clear eyes, as if a woman needs these equations, she, tea, and her husband will not solve the equations. ”, - and then there was a commentary on the school curriculum, in which, according to nanny opinion, everything was different.
The comment always ended with the same phrase: “Study, study, my little darling, for nothing, that you shouldn’t teach the wrong thing, you didn’t have a disgrace in your family, you shouldn’t disgrace something. Here you have baked a pie with apples, you eat, the child has completely arrived, Herods, with music, solhvedzhami (solfeggio) and all sorts of languages.
Under the strict supervision of the piano, I had to sit out for an hour and a half daily, my entire simple repertoire was instantly seized by her by ear, it was impossible to deceive her. If I started to play, say, the theme “Emmanuel”, she was on guard and immediately said: “You’ve passed Bach’s play and the etude of your Czerny, play the music, but I don’t understand any nonsense”.
With the richness of her village language, preserved in all its primordialness, despite the long years lived in Moscow, we did not get tired to admire.
"Whistled"- she said about someone who was just here - and suddenly suddenly disappeared.
“In our village there is a thief on a thief. Sit down - so from under ... you can carry it away, though don't sit down ".
“Oh, che yesterday was something, che was. Polina somehow clashed with Ninka, how she fought ... Because of the muzhuka, well, shame ... Right Halomeyskaya (St. Bartholomew's) night " .
“My father didn’t sleep the whole night, he wrote all the hooks in a notebook. Science ... Integrals enti. Life does not see beyond the integrals, the light is white ".
I remember she explained to her country relative how to get somewhere, and repeated: “So you, then, will reach the street Klartsetkin, and then ask. Do not be afraid to ask, that is here, Moscow, the people are cultural, the demand is not worth a penny. To the street Klartsetkina, understand? "
I decided to ask: “Nannies, and nannies, and who is this Klartsetkin?” “Oh, and hto such Klartsetkin, darling, I myself do not know. Well and a surname, forgive My God, silly, language you will break. Revivantsaner not our what, probably. You ask the grandfather.
Some of the phrases she started with the words “To the prince”, which meant “in principle”.
“Do not be indignant, my dear, do not be indignant. In the prince, you have a girl okay grow up. If you grow up, we will marry you for an orphan, shtob from her mother-in-law, not tolerate ".
I did not manage to marry me for the orphan, my nanny accepted my husband quite diplomatically, and when our son was born ... “This is not a child, this is an heavenly angel. Happiness something you do not understand svovo, parents stupid. The main thing is what? To eat well and not yell. How he eats something good, but calm, well, purely andel. ”
She’s already quite old, she says goodbye to the phone of our son with the same words as I used to: “You, the main thing, dove, my dear, study. You have not been in the family of the unlearned, you can not disgrace something ".
She pulled out her three nephews from the village to Moscow, attached them to a craft, she followed their lives right up to their marriage, celebrated all three weddings and waited for granddaughters, and now great-nephews, all of whom they considered their children.
My nanny, live a long, long time. You gave me an example of perfect, unconditional and constant love for all of us, your children. An example of life dedicated to others, entirely, without a trace.