When Ekaterina Nikolaevna Kuryakin was being born, young Illya being ever curious, tried to peek inside his parent's bedroom where the birthing was in progress.

His mother was there along with his Babushka and another woman who was called midwife, though he didn't know who she was or why she was there in the bedroom.

He thought it odd that a strange woman was in the room where his parents slept.

Tanya, his mother was moaning and every once in awhile she would cry out in pain. That frightened him and he kept trying to come inside to see what was wrong.

His Baba would shoo him away, telling him to go outside and play but instead of obeying, Illya hid himself in the shadows and as the midwife lady went back and forth getting hot water; the door was finally left ajar.

Illya of course, looked inside the room.

He heard the woman give some orders.

"You need to bear down Tatiana."

Illya watched as his Baba helped his mother sit up, and lean forward. She wiped Mama's perspired brow, telling her it was time to push.

"Push Tanya, and do not forget to breathe."

Mama groaned."I am pushing woman! Where is my husband...this is all his fault! Why must women do this? We do all the work while they...ohhhhhh!"

Illya was afraid when his mother cried out, and wondered what it was that she was blaming Papa for?

"Do not argue girl, now push again!"Baba's voice seemed harsh.

Mama groaned once more and then there was silence that seemed to last forever. Illya felt panic grow inside him; was his mama dead?

Suddenly he heard something that sounded like a fox, or was it an owl? What could an animal be doing in his parent's bedroom, and why did he not hear his mother. Yet now there was laughter. What was going on?

Illya had enough and burst through the door.

"What have you done to my mama!" He shouted, and began to cry when he spotted a bloody sheet.

His grandmother took hold of him, enveloping him in her arms.

"Illyushenka...Illyusha everything is fine. Your mother is fine, come." His grandmother's voice was gentle and assuring. She lifted him into her arms, carrying him over to the bed where his mother was sitting up.

Mama was holding something in her arms, something wrapped in a white blanket and she was smiling at it.

"See boy, your mother is fine."

"I was scared Baba," he sniffled."I thought some animals had hurt her...where did the animals go?"

Tanya laughed." No animals. Come look."

Illya snuggled up next to his mother, peeking in at the little pink face that was poking through the blanket.

"What is it Mama, a doll?"

"This is your new baby sister. She was just born."

"A baby sister? I have a baby sister?" He looked at her with fascination, smiling as the baby yawned and made little squeaks.

"Can I touch her?"

"May I touch her," his mother corrected,"and yes you may but be gentle."

He reached out with only his finger, carefully stroking the baby's cheek. Unexpectedly a tiny hand reached out from within the blanket and took hold of his finger, grasping it tightly.

"She is very strong. Can she come play with me?"

"No Illyusha, not just yet. She had to grow a little more before she can do that."

"I think she likes me." He nodded very seriously.

"Yes she does, but I think maybe she loves you."

"How can she love me; she does not know me?"

"She knows you are her brother. That is why she took your finger to say hello."

"I love her too then."

"And so you should. You are her big brother Illya, and you need to watch out for her."

He thought for a moment, pursing his lips. "Like Dimitry watches out for me?"

"Yes exactly."

"Mama, where did my baby sister come from?"

She smiled again, and reaching over, Tanya ran her fingers through his very blond hair. "That is a story for another time. Now you need to go downstairs, Mama is very tired."

"Does my sister have a name?" Illya asked.

"Ekaterina Nikolaevna."

"Mama that is a very long name."

"You may call her Katiya."

"Hello Katiya. I am your brother Illya,"he whispered.

Katiya gave him a smile.

"Look Mama, she smiled at me, but she has no teeth?"

"Yes she did, and her teeth will come in I promise you."

"Illya you must leave now," his babushka said. "Your mother must rest as well as your sister. It is very hard work being born."

"All right," he sulked just a little."May I come back later to visit?"

"Yes, you may. Now off with you boy." His Baba ushered him to the door and closed it after him.

Nicholaí was coming up the stairs at that moment.

"Papa!" Illya called out."There is a baby and she is my sister. Her name is Ekat...Ekat...Katiya Nikolaevna. I am a big brother now!"

"A girl?" His father beamed. "That is very exciting news Illya, now time to go downstairs. You may tell your brother about your new sister."

"Babushka said mama needs to rest."

"I know, and I will only be a minute. Wait downstairs and I will be there shortly."

"Yes Papa!" Illya hurried down the stairs, excited to make the announcement about the baby.

Finally Nicholaí came downstairs, finding both his sons waiting for him.

"So what do you think of having a baby sister?" He asked.

Dimitry shrugged, "It is all right I suppose, but a brother would have been better."

Kolya laughed at that answer; so typical of a boy to say such a thing. He himself never knew the joy of having a brother or a sister as he was an only child, and one who grew up for the most part without a father.

"And you Illya what do you think of her?"

"I like her, and mama said Katiya can play with me when she gets bigger. How long will that take Papa?"

"Oh it will take a while I am afraid." Kolya poured himself a glass of tea from the brass samovar set on a table in the corner of the kitchen.

"Papa?"

"Yes Illya?"

"I asked mama where my sister came from but she said that was a story for another time. Do you know? Will you tell me?"

His father scratched his head for a moment; caught off guard. Illya was too young for the truth, other than chickens laying eggs the boy had never an animal giving birth. He supposed a little white lie of a story wouldn't hurt and would satisfy his ever curious son.

"All right Illyusha I will tell you the story of where babies come from...

"Once upon a time there was an old man and his wife, who had no children, no grandchildren at all. One feast day they went outside and watched other people's children making snowmen and throwing snowballs at one another.

The old man picked up a snowball and said to his wife,

'If only you and I had a little daughter as white and chubby as this, wife!'

The old woman looked at the snowball, shook her head and said, "Well, we do not and there is no getting one now, so there!'

But the old man took the snowball into the cottage, lay it in a pot, covered it with a piece of cloth and placed it on the window-sill. For it was a wise fox who once told him to do this. When the sun rose, it warmed the pot and the snow inside began to melt. Suddenly the old couple heard a lisping sound in the pot under the piece of cloth. They ran up to take a look, and there in the pot lay a little girl, as white and chubby as a snowball.

'I am Little Snow Girl, rolled from the snow of spring, warmed and browned by the sun of spring,' she said to them.

The man and his wife were beside themselves with joy. They took her out, and the old woman began sewing her some pretty clothes, while the old man wrapped her in a towel, rocked her and sang this lullaby.

Sleep, Little Snow Girl, sleep,

Our tasty bun so sweet,

Rolled from the snow of spring,

Warmed by the sun of spring.

We'll give you drink a-plenty,

We'll give you food galore,

And make you such a pretty dress

And teach you four times four.

So Little Snow Girl grew up, a joy to the old couple.

"And that is where babies come from,"Kolya winked. He waited for a reaction but it seemed Illya had to think things out, as he always did.

The boy finally spoke. "That makes sense to me as I saw the lady called midwife bring pots of water into your bedroom and I heard what sounded like a fox or an owl but now I know it must have been a fox, I think."

Nicholaí was pleased with the boy's reasoning, and relieved his son was accepting the story for now, at least enough to satisfy his curiosity.

"But Papa," Dimitry protested,"that is not where…"

"Hush boy. That story was for your brother, understand?"

"Yes sir." Dimitry had been in the forest enough with his father to see the miracle of birth among the animals, but his father telling his little brother a made up story would do he supposed. If the school master had heard such a frivolous and ignorant story coming from one of the students, they would get a sound beating with a strop.

Still Illya was too young for school and maybe by then he would know the truth of where a baby comes from. What did it matter? Illya would eventually learn the harsh reality of life and most likely end up being trained for a dull position as a teacher someday, given he was so bright. He didn't think his brother would be destined for a farming collective.

Dimitry had already been told he would someday work in a job involving forestry, which suited him just fine.

Poor Papa would still do his carpentry and work on the farming collective for a pittance. Still he was part of the system working for the good of the masses. That was what Dimitry was taught in school. For all the teachings extolling the virtues of 'the party,' it seemed to him that none of it did help the masses, at least not where the Kuryakin family and their neighbors were concerned.

He watched his father, day after day, struggling to make ends meet in order to care for his family, which now included another mouth to feed, and a girl no less. What could a girl do to contribute to their survival? She couldn't hunt, or chop firewood. She could only help in the kitchen, but how ward was that?

Dimitry had heard of children selling themselves, their bodies for a morsel of food. Would his sister someday be resigned to that, or worked to death in a factory for little money once papa and mama were gone? He might be sent away to work, as would Illya; then who would take care of her?

If Katiya had been a boy, her chances he thought, would be much better at living long enough to grow up.