– If only it wasn’t like that cold winter… – said my grandmother. It’s strange, because she always loved winter, rejoiced at the first snow, even went outside with us with the first snowflakes, but at the same time she always, every year, says this – “If only it was not like that cold winter”. She said it by accident. No one paid attention to it, but every time I thought after these words. Well, winter is the winter that should be cold. But what does “that” winter mean… Well, this time I couldn’t help myself. – Grandma, why do you say that? What winter, what are you talking about? – Because, my dear, the cold winter is a period of trials. – Are you speaking in riddles again? I intend to find out the whole secret. My grandmother lived in the village until she was 28, and then moved to the city with my grandfather. Now, yes, moving is relatively easy. Compared to those times. My grandmother always talked about moving to the city as one of the circles of hell.
But I never understood why she moved. – It’s a pleasure to live there. You can get everything you want. And the weather in summer… – Grandma, I’m not asking you about the weather, don’t start. Let’s get down to business. Grandma sighed heavily and told me everything. I was so impressed by her story that I decided to share it with you. My grandmother and her parents lived in a big house of their own. Well, by today’s standards it was average, but then it was estimated as large. One cold winter evening a young man knocked on their door. He asked to warm up in the house, as he had lost his way and was cold. The grandmother’s parents let him in, but later he said he had nowhere to go and said he could help with the housework for a warm corner and a plate of porridge.
Grandma fell in love with the guest. How could she remain indifferent to such a handsome man? In general, she persuaded her parents to leave the guest to live with them, because you can not take such a sin on your soul. And if he freezes on the way, it’s on your conscience. The young fell in love with each other. He did not hurry things. He pampered his grandmother with compliments, but one dark night, the irreversible happened. – You slept together? – flew out of my mouth, and I felt ashamed of my question. – He’s a bastard, – after a long pause, my grandmother replied. It wasn’t my grandfather. You met him later. Am I right? I was right. The cold winter days brought Grandma back to the night she gave in to her passion, and then… then this one stole most of the chickens and disappeared forever into the night. It was clear that my grandmother had not forgiven him yet. She told the story so emotionally that it seemed she was reliving all the feelings again. After that I started to look at my old lady with different eyes.
