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- D. Stavnichukje citiraoпре 5 дана
‘This can’t be true! Quick, quick – come here!’
Scared, we ran to him. On the television thousands of people were shown climbing onto the Berlin Wall and tearing it down bit by bit. There, on the screen, reigned an uncontrolled joy, euphoria, the sound of yelling and streaming tears.
‘This can’t be! It can’t be!’ As if transfixed by the
screen, my step-grandfather repeated it over and over. And yet it happened right in front of our eyes. Our four pairs of eyes – mine, my grandmother’s, my stepgrandfather’s and Jesse’s. Only my mother’s were missing.
Jesse clutched her head and said, ‘We really will be free. Why couldn’t she listen to my words?’ - D. Stavnichukje citiraoпре 5 дана‘My mother, Serafima, called your mother my father.’ She smiled. ‘Without your mother, I would not have been born. That was in Leningrad. Now we live here. Serafima died, but she always said that I should find your mother. Sadly, I have only managed now.’
‘Your mother was my father’ – it rang in my ears. - D. Stavnichukje citiraoпре 5 данаIn the evening Jesse telephoned. She couldn’t talk. Tears stifled every word. My mother had died. I had to hurry back immediately.
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