"Mamouchka"
She shook me awake as I lay daydreaming in my warm bed, the window panes being covered in an early frost, letting the barest rays of light shine into my room.
A gentle hand stroked my head, running her fingers through my dampened hair.
"Mama," I whispered to her.
"Shush, Illuysha my darling. Do not try to talk."
She set a heavy black cast iron pot filled with steaming salted water on top of the table at my bedside, then taking a handful of dried herbs she rubbed them between her hands, crumpling them into the water to help my breathing. There rich scent filled the air, reminding me of the fields behind our dacha in the spring.
Then she made a bowl of chicken broth magically appear, spooning it a little at a time into my mouth until it was all gone.
"Good, you ate more like my son today and less like a little bird. Perhaps that is a sign you are getting better?" she smiled as she ran a cool hand across my fevered brow.
"Go back to sleep my little volchok and dream of happier times. Mama will stay here with you for a while." she smiled, tucking the heavy quilt around me. I liked that when she called me wolf cub.
"I miss Papa and Dimitry."
"I know my love, I miss them too, now close your eyes for Mama please?"
"Da Mama ya tebya lyublyu."
"Ya znayu moy chto syn_ I know my son." She smiled at me as she leaned over, giving me a kiss on the forehead.
In my fevered haze I saw the face of my Babushka appear beside my mother.
"Sleep Illuyshenka," Baba said. Then the two of them began to sing to me.
"Bayu bayushki bayu
Ne lozhisya na krayu
Pridet serenkiy volchok.
Y ukhavatit za bochok
On ukhavatit za bochok
Y potashchit vo lesok
Pod rakitovyi kustok."
.
"Hush a bye hush a bye
On the edge you must not lie
There will come a grey top wolf.
And grab your flank
He'll grab your flank
Tug you off into the wood
underneath the willow root."
The words did not frighten me at all as the song had been sung to me since I was little and the sound of their soft voices joined in harmony lulled me to sleep. I was all grown up at eight years of age, or so my mother had told me. It was a time when all children needed to grow up quickly.
Later that night Mama brought me cabbage and meat from the chicken they must have slaughtered to make the soup. The flavor was wonderful as I bit into the crisp browned skin and ate my wedges of boiled cabbage.
Though there were only a few chickens left, they sacrificed this one for my sake to help me be well and strong. Yet I knew Mama and Baba had denied themselves any of it and were giving the gift of meat to me, the twins Sasha and Misha, and my little sister Katiya.
Mama spoke softly and low to me with her beautiful soothing voice as I looked up into her blue eyes, my blue eyes just like hers. Her long blond hair was falling gently to her shoulders...my hair too just like hers, soft and blond. She told me skazka_fairy tales to pass the time...Finist the Falcon, the Snowmaiden and By the Pike's Will and my favorite, Illya Muromets.
During the night my fever broke and I rose weakly from my bed the next day, Mama helping me to dress in my shirt, homespun woolen sweater and trousers. As I bent over lacing my boots she dropped my black cap, the one with the red star, atop my head.
"Nikoda ne zabyvaite, Volchok, Mama tebya lyubit_never forget wolf cub, Mama loves you."
"Ya lyublyu tebya bol'she Mama_I love you more Mama."
Two weeks later, she was gone...she and the twins. I never forgot the gentleness of my mother. Her voice, her eyes and hair...perhaps that is why I let no one cut my hair, keeping it a little longer to remind me of her, my Mamouchka.
.
* ref "Beginnings"