Ten-year-old Grisha hurried home from school. His mother had strictly told him not to dawdle. During the night, a cow had calved, and Lyudmila Sergeyevna spent the entire day by Zorya and the newborn calf.
Grisha was supposed to warm up lunch, wash the dishes, and do his homework. But what drove him home wasn’t the household chores, but the desire to see the baby calf. Newborn calves are so cute, so tender, and it’s so funny how they drink milk from a bottle — how could he miss such a miracle?
He skipped happily along the river, where the ice had completely melted, and the young grass curled along the banks. As he got closer, the boy noticed an elderly woman, wet from head to toe, shaking from the cold and crying.
“Hello! What happened?” he asked, noticing a pile of wet rags nearby. “Did you fall into the river?”
“Oh, dear! I didn’t fall, I was pushed! And now I’m crying, realizing what cruelty people are capable of!” The old woman sobbed, shivering even more. “I thought I could get to the village, maybe someone would let me warm up, but a cramp seized me so badly I can neither breathe nor move!”
“Grandma, wait! I’ll be right back!” Grisha shouted and ran to the village.
Lyudmila Sergeyevna had just returned from the barn, washed up, and lay down to rest. Zorya stubbornly refused to give milk, probably afraid that people would take it all, leaving nothing for her son Mike — that’s the name they had given to the calf born in May.
Lyuda didn’t want to let the baby near the mother: it would be difficult to train him to drink from a bucket later. Besides, after feeding the calf herself, Zorya would no longer allow herself to be milked.
Through the open window, Lyudmila heard mother and son talking in the barn. Her rest was interrupted by the sharp slam of the front door.
“Grisha, is that you?” she asked. “Why are you slamming the door, is there a fire?”
“No, mom, no fire, worse! There’s someone dying by the river!”
“Who?” Lyudmila jumped up immediately.
“Some old woman, all wet, says someone pushed her into the river, she froze and can’t walk! I’ll bring her something warm!”
“Oh my, what a disaster!” The mother began frantically rummaging in the cupboard. “Here, take your father’s old sheepskin coat and scarf. Wait!” she suddenly exclaimed. “Let’s take the cart for the milk cans, it might be useful!”
Grisha rushed to the shed and brought out the four-wheeled cart, which Lyudmila usually used to transport milk to the highway. She covered it with a sheepskin, placed her late husband’s sheepskin coat on top, and almost ran toward the river.
The old woman was no longer sitting by her things but was lying on the grass, curled up from the cold. Lyudmila quickly covered her with the clothes, then gently lifted her and placed her on the cart. The woman felt weightless, like a child. She came to, looked around with unseeing eyes, and tried to smile.
“Don’t be afraid, grandma, everything will be fine,” Lyudmila said, and with her son, they took her home.
When Ksenia Petrovna was warmed up in a hot bath, fed, and given hot tea, she didn’t know how to thank her rescuers.
“Oh, children, may God bless you with health, happiness, and well-being for your kind hearts! Thank you, Lyudochka, for raising such a good son!”
“Don’t mention it, Ksenia Petrovna, anyone would have done the same,” said the hostess, but Baba Asya, as she asked to be called, disagreed:
“Don’t say that, someone pushed me into that river!”
Lyudmila couldn’t wait to hear the story, so she sent Grisha to play with the calf and sat closer to Petrovna to talk.
“I lived, Lyudochka, in the house of my eldest son, in a wealthy house. As long as his first wife, Lenochka, was alive, we lived happily. She was a medic, took care of me, kept track of my medicines. When Lenochka got sick, Vitalik hired a nurse for her, and later took her to hospice.
After the funeral, six months later, my son brought a new wife, Mila — a young, beautiful model. And she immediately didn’t like me! She watched me all the time:
— Mom, where are you going? You’re just bringing dust into the house!
I explained that I needed to move, but she sniffed:
— Are you planning to live to be a hundred?
I cried, I was nervous, took sedatives, and she shouted:
— Mom, what is that old smell in the house? Again you’re poisoning the air with your pills!
One day she threw all my medicine away. I endured, not wanting any quarrels between them.
When my son left for the economic forum, my daughter-in-law went completely wild. She forbade me from leaving my room. Luckily, I had my own bathroom. Then I asked:
— Daughter, take me to my younger son in the village.
She first shouted, then agreed. I packed my suitcase, but she brought a big paper bag:
— Pack everything in here, I’m not carrying your suitcase.
When we reached the bridge over the river, she stopped:
— Look over there! We’ve arrived.
I got out, stood on the shore:
— Our village is across the river.
And then she pushed me! I fell into the water with the bag. And she turned the car around and left.
How I got out, I don’t remember. It was lucky that the shore was shallow. The bag soaked and fell apart. That’s how my daughter-in-law got rid of me…
The grandmother started crying, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief.
Lyudmila was shocked. She needed to report this to the police! But as soon as she expressed the idea, Baba Asya immediately refused:
“God is her judge. I won’t testify against her.”
“And where will you live now?”
“We’re almost there. What is the name of your village?”
“Rubtsy.”
“And the next one is Lozovaya. That’s where my younger son is a farmer, he has orchards and fields.”
“So you’re the mother of our famous Rudkovsky? He’s a well-known sponsor and philanthropist!”
“Yes, Rudkovsky. My husband and I are from Lozovaya. Vitalik went to the city, and when his father passed away, he took me with him. He said that in Vitya’s house, there were no women, so how would he care for his mother? And at that time, his wife was Lenochka.”
Suddenly Grisha returned, his face flushed from running, covered with grass.
“What happened to you, Grish? Were you playing in the hay?” his mother asked, pulling dry stems from his hair.
“No, I was with Mike. I climbed into the stall, lay next to him, and he licked my face! Oh, what a rough tongue!”
His mother smiled: “Grishenka, do you remember we’re having guests on Saturday?”
“Of course I do! We’ve practiced everything, so I’m ready.”
“Great!” Lyudmila said cheerfully. “Ksenia Petrovna, stay with us until Saturday, and then we’ll take you to your son.”
“I can’t stay with you for three extra days. Maybe I’ll make my way to Lozovaya on my own?”
“No, no, no!” Lyuda immediately replied. “You’ll stay, rest, wash your clothes, and we’ll give you clean bags.”
“Oh, how uncomfortable it is that I’ve added laundry…”
“Don’t worry, the washing machine is already working, and they’ll dry quickly in the sun.”
Baba Asya got up, walked around the room: “Well, it’s a little better. Now maybe I can help with something. I could help Grisha with his homework — I used to be a teacher in Lozovaya.”
Grisha led her to his room, laid out the textbooks and notebooks. When she asked about the teachers, it turned out that almost half of the teachers in Rubtsy were her former students. She remembered them all and told funny stories. Grisha was amazed:
“Baba Asya, how do you remember so many people? There must be over a hundred!”
“I loved my work and the children,” she sighed. “It’s just a pity that Vitalik doesn’t give me any grandchildren.”
Three days later, Baba Asya put on her dress, put on her “concert” shoes, and did her hair. When Lyudmila entered the house, she didn’t recognize her.
“Ksenia Petrovna, you look gorgeous!”
“Ah, if only my hair hadn’t turned so gray,” the old lady smiled. “So many good girls around us, and Vitalik went to the city in search of happiness.”
Music was playing outside the school. Ksenia Petrovna quietly followed Lyudmila and sat on a bench.
The celebration was dedicated to the school’s tenth anniversary. After the director’s speech, a jeep pulled up, and Viktor Rudkovsky got out. He congratulated everyone and presented bouquets to the teachers. Suddenly, one teacher loudly announced:
“Today, we have with us the first teacher of many of our educators, the honored Ksenia Petrovna Rudkovskaya!”
Baba Asya looked at Lyuda in surprise, who was applauding and calling her to the stage. Limping, she walked up to the microphone: “What a joy to see so many of my former students among the teachers!”
Viktor ran up to her, handed her a bouquet, and almost carried her off the stage. Around the corner of the school, they hugged tightly.
“Surprise! They told me to take an extra bouquet. But I didn’t expect it to be you! What brings you here?”
“Oh, Vitenka, I’ll tell you at home. If it wasn’t for Grisha and Lyuda…”
The next morning, as soon as Lyudmila milked Zorya, Viktor pulled up to the gate. He pulled out a huge bouquet and knocked on the gate.
“Lyudmila, hello! My mom and I are inviting you and Grisha to dinner at seven o’clock. What do you think?” he offered the bouquet.
“Thank you, Viktor! I would love to, but I just gave birth and can’t leave.”
“Then we’ll postpone. Why do you milk by hand?”
“We only have one cow, why bother with machinery?”
“I’ll bring a machine today,” promised the farmer.
By evening, Lyudmila had a milking machine. Viktor brought it and asked to see the barn.
“Why such gifts?”
“You need to take care of your health. You’ve got a son growing up, maybe more children later.”
In the evening, he brought fruit and gave Grisha a bicycle. The boy couldn’t believe it: “Is this for me, forever?”
“Of course! For boyish activities,” Viktor smiled.
Grisha ran to hug him. Before, Rudkovsky had helped families with food or stationery, but this gift was something special. Baba Asya brought a pie:
“Lyudochka, I decided to bake, just like before. Let’s have some tea, I missed you!”
Viktor’s visits became a regular occurrence. Every time, Ksenia Petrovna tried to make something delicious. Sometimes he came alone, showing interest in the farm and offering help. One day, he warmly said:
“Lyudochka, over this time, I’ve really become attached. You’ve become a real comfort.”
“I feel the same… But you’ve probably noticed,” Lyudmila admitted.
At the end of June, they got married. Viktor moved all the property to Lozovaya, rented the house to summer residents, and transferred Grisha to the new school. The following July, they celebrated Viktor’s anniversary, but Lyudmila couldn’t attend — she had just given birth to their second son, Stepan.
A week after Ksenia Petrovna was saved, Viktor’s brother Vitalik arrived in Lozovaya. His young wife had been in a car accident — her car was thrown into the river. She sustained a spinal injury and was bedridden.
When Ksenia Petrovna asked her son if he was surprised by her disappearance, he replied without hesitation:
“Mila said you went to Vitya’s, so I wasn’t worried.”
Meanwhile, Grisha enjoyed his new bicycle. He rode to his friends’ houses, to the store, and to get medicine for Baba Asya. The boy felt needed and happy.