Wormwood tree. A dough doll under a wormwood tree. I wanted to remind you that all the peoples of the Soviet Union took part in the war. And Russian Germans are one of many. Very often the Russians helped the Germans, and vice versa, because then everyone knew that they were our people. People

06.08.2020 Oncology

The Great Patriotic War went like a whirlwind through all families, leaving not a single person without their attention. The residents of the city of Semey managed to find out what the deported peoples experienced during this period, to feel all the hardships and emotions of wartime at the premiere of the play "Wormwood tree" by the theater studio "Glück" of the regional public association of Germans "Renaissance". The premiere took place in honor of the Victory Day.

In 2017, the Moscow publishing house "CompassGid" published a book by Olga Kolpakova with illustrations by Sergei Ukhach "Wormwood tree". The book is a representative of the popular Lately genre "on behalf of the children of the terrible XX century - the children of the Safe XXI". This time, in front of a teenager unencumbered by historical knowledge - the deportation of the Volga Germans.

“What if your family is far from home, from everything familiar and dear, and before Christmas you don't even have a Christmas tree? You can dress up a branch of wormwood: cut a fringe from an old torn book, stick lambs, chickens, horses out of dough. It will turn out, although black and white, but very beautiful! Five-year-old Mariikhe knows: there will definitely be a present on a plate under such a tree in the morning, because she behaved well all year, almost well behaved.

Christmas always remains a holiday - even in the unfamiliar Siberian land, where Mariikhe and his family were sent with the outbreak of the war. Children's memory retains only fragmentary memories, only fragments of parental explanations of how and why this happened. The heavy tread of history is muffled, the girl barely hears it - and remembers quiet moments of joy, moments of everyday grief, fragile images that at first glance do not say anything about the era of the 1940s.

Mariikhe, her sisters Mina and Lilya, their mother, aunt Jozefina with her son Theodor, friends and neighbors in Rovnopol are Russian Germans. And although they, as dad explained to the girls, are "good Germans" and not "fascists", they are forbidden to continue living in their native places: will they suddenly go over to the side of the enemy? No matter how hard the move may be for the family, kind people help to cope - there are such people in any locality, in any nation, at any time.

The director of the play and the head of the theater studio "Glück", Inna Semenenko, contacted the author of the story "Wormwood Tree" Olga Kolpakova, telling her about her idea to stage the play, to which the writer agreed. And from January, the creative process began: exercises in acting, rehearsals, preparation of props, and most importantly, understanding the roles.

For the director, as well as for the actors, this was not the first premiere about the deportation of Russian Germans, but it was especially significant and exciting, because the author himself was present at the performance. Olga Valerievna Kolpakova is a children's writer, journalist, author of more than thirty educational and fiction books, chairman of the Commonwealth of Children's Writers in Yekaterinburg, one of the organizers of the International Children's Literary Prize. V.P. Krapivina.

Premiere of the play "Wormwood Tree" | Photo: Gray Greyman

Before the performance, Lilia Goncharuk, chairman of the Renaissance society, introduced the audience to the author of the story. Olga Valerievna told about the history of writing the story, made a presentation and showed what they are like in life, the main characters of the book. Olga Kolpakova's grandfather, Andrei Aleksandrovich Wolf, is a Russian German, and as a child he went through all the hardships of deportation. He did not tell his granddaughter - time taught him to be silent, so only a little about his life was learned.

- All the details were told to me by my former teacher of the German language Maria Andreevna and her husband. He and Heinrich rode on the same train, which took them away from their homes, lived in the same village. Maria Andreevna is Mariikhe, the heroine of the story "Wormwood Tree". She survived, grew up, learned, helped to establish the first garden in the village, with the first apple trees in the area (then apples were not grown in the foothills of Altai). In the village, a sincere person and a wonderful teacher was loved and respected, - the author of the story shared.

The pages of the story depict a family: mom, dad, grandmother and three daughters. In 1941, the father was taken into the labor army, and the children with their mother and grandmother were deported to Siberia, where they try to survive, feed themselves and, despite the hardships, find a small and possibly short-lived joy of life. The youngest heroine is only five years old! Bringing these images to the stage, breathing life into them is another task! But the director succeeded brilliantly!

Spectators of different ages, among whom were parents, friends, relatives of young actors and guests of honor of the city - all applauded while standing. And everyone had sincere emotions and feedback about the performance.

Olga Kolpakova: “I am sure that the performance will still change. But, most likely, not very much. While I’m scrolling scene after scene in my head, I celebrate the performance of wonderful artists.

17-year-old Dasha Hertsog very convincingly played the role of five-year-old Mariikhe. The audience even approached her after the premiere to inquire about her age. The role of Mina, a desperate, hooligan middle sister, was played by Sofia Beder.

Lilia - Dominika Beder. With her play, she was able to give a miracle, instill hope. Even in tragic moments, the audience smiled, looking at Lilya performed by Dominica. Mom - Alena Talanova, fragile as a reed, with sad eyes. How can she not break? Sometimes it seemed that she was bewitched, but the thought to survive, to save the girls, keeps her. Alena had to sing for the first time on stage. Grandmother - Madina Mustafinova. According to the book, she did not speak Russian at all. But the audience intuitively felt the meaning ... Grandmother Nadia was performed by Alina Kacedorn. Aunt Yuzefina (M. Gorbacheva) appeared on the stage for just a minute, and the audience looked forward to her return to the stage.

In the role of the father - Alexander Kozlov. Restrained, even a little cold. But Alexander conveyed the inner experience of a man. Chumichov - Evgeny Krementsov, the youngest of the artists. He managed to convey an ambivalent attitude towards the deported: it seems that I feel sorry for them, and it is interesting to be friends with them, but they are somehow not like that ...
Theodor - Yaroslav Karpich. When he was sitting on the stage, in the episode with felt boots, I was beaten. Again, some one hundred percent hit of the hero and the artist, I can not imagine another Theodore! As well as Deda Dedov performed by Rafael Babazhanov. It was a debut for Raphael. He played great, a real grandfather from the Siberian hinterland.

Premiere of the play "Wormwood Tree" | Photo: Gray Greyman

Directed by Inna Semenenko. I didn’t see the script, and generally had a poor idea of how this text could be transferred to the stage, and even for that. a short time... Inna is an amazingly talented and sensible person! The play is staged close to the text, but there are no long monologues in it. Having built her composition, Inna was able to translate all this into a visual series. She even cognitive part, which at the end of the book, put it into action so that the viewer could imagine the time. The decorations are the most modest, but surprisingly appropriate. The platform is a cart, a carriage, a house, and a table. Boxes and bundles with things. Girls, playing and talking, line up from sticks railroad... Wormwood appears at the end, near the icon, as a symbol of bitterness and deliverance from all evil spirits. What fascinates me in artists is that they can look beyond the direct author's text, now in directors too.
I really want everything to be good at the theater. New premieres! But the strongest desire is to go on tour with the Wormwood Tree. "

Inna Semenenko: “When I was looking for another material about the deportation of the Volga Germans to work with the youth theater of the KNM“ Glück ”, I really liked this book. I contacted the author. But getting permission is one thing, and another when the author is present at the premiere. Exciting. What if your dramatic and directing decisions do not understand? Olga understood and accepted. "

Dominika Beder, member of the theater studio: “The role of an older sister was not too difficult for me, because I have younger sister... Something to suggest, help, explain, for me this is a familiar thing. I understood Lilia very well, it was she who had to give the sisters what her mother did not have time for, because she was too busy earning to survive. This was the second show dedicated to deportation in our society.

In the first play “Deportation. The story of one Russian family"Based on the novel by Ida Bender, I was the storyteller. These performances became for me some kind of important step in terms of understanding myself and the history of my people. It is not always worth telling about a tragedy tragically, because in life, no matter how terrible it is, there are some bright moments. Even in the cramped tragic circumstances, people can try to change something to make it better for them. "

Yulia Krylova, viewer: “I'd like to express my gratitude to Inna Semenenko for staging“ Wormwood Tree ”. I was at the play with a group of guys who are studying German in a circle. These are mainly sixth grade students. Children are usually restless and difficult to grab their attention or get them to focus. At the play "Wormwood Tree" I saw my children completely different. They watched the performance with such enthusiasm, almost everyone's eyes were "in a wet place."

One girl even cried. She said, “I can't help but cry! I imagined how it really was ... ". For me, as a teacher, it was very pleasant to see. Their tears indicated that they still felt the idea of the work. After all, this was the main goal. You have accomplished a feat. It is very difficult for actors on stage to keep the attention of a child's audience. And even though there were not many children in the hall today, I consider this a great victory. I think you will show this performance more than once? As for me, I will try to bring children from other classes to it. Not only the Germans should remember their history, but everyone else would also do well to see and find out how people lived during the resettlement. "

Ermak Bidakhmetovich Salimov, akim of the city of Semey, with a book in his hands, expressed gratitude to the actors for an important and necessary production: “After all, this is our story, which must be remembered, appreciated and supported the continuity of generations, cherished and cherished what we have today” ...

The performance is mesmerizing, completely captures our feelings and emotions.
With sadness in your heart you follow the fate of the heroes, you realize and understand that this is not fiction, this is - real story, real life of people. It is necessary to remember and respect history, respectfully treats the older generation, because they have gone through a lot and have done everything in their power to ensure that their children have a bright future. "
The play is available for viewing on the Internet, in in social networks, the title of the video "The play" Wormwood tree ".

BIBLIOGRAPHIC DESCRIPTION: Wormwood tree [for middle school. age: + 12] / Olga Kolpakova; silt Sergey Ukhach. - M.: KompasGid, 2017 .-- 88 p. ; ISBN 978-5-00083-354-4. - (Wartime childhood)

What if your family is far from home, from everything familiar and dear, and before Christmas you don't even have a Christmas tree? You can dress up a branch of wormwood: cut a fringe from an old torn book, stick lambs, chickens, horses out of dough. It will turn out, although black and white, but very beautiful! Five-year-old Mariikhe knows: there will definitely be a present on a plate under such a tree in the morning, because she behaved well all year, almost well behaved.
Christmas always remains a holiday - even in the unfamiliar Siberian land, where Mariikhe and his family were sent with the outbreak of the war. Children's memory retains only fragmentary memories, only fragments of parental explanations of how and why this happened. The heavy tread of history is muffled, the girl barely hears it - and remembers quiet moments of joy, moments of everyday grief, fragile images that at first glance do not say anything about the era of the 1940s.
Mariikhe, her sisters Mina and Lilya, their mother, aunt Jozefina with her son Theodor, friends and neighbors in Rovnopol are Russian Germans. And although, as dad explained to the girls, they are "good Germans" and not "fascists", they are forbidden to continue living in their native places: will they suddenly go over to the side of the enemy? No matter how hard the move may be for the family, kind people help to cope - there are such people in any locality, in any nation, at any time.

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AVAILABILITY IN THE LIBRARY.

Wormwood tree

The time is ...

Instead of a preface

Nobody likes prefaces. The reader does not like to read them, and the writer does not like to write. Because it’s like you’re already standing at the edge of the forest, on the shore interesting story, and adults hold your hand and explain what animals are in the forest, what plants cannot be taken in your mouth and what to shout when you get lost. No, I would rather go there, in a mysterious, scary forest, in order to figure everything out myself.

Therefore, I will not be offended if you first read the story, and then decide whether or not you need to exchange a few words with the author. If you think you need it, come back here, to the beginning.

It all started a long time ago. Not even in my childhood, but when Henry was 13-14 years old. He fought a wolf. It was night. The wolf grabbed the foal from behind and pulled him towards him, and Henry held the foal by the head and tried to drag him into his hut. It was impossible to let go. Never. The wolf was alone, and Heinrich was alone. The wolf was big and hungry. And Henry is very short, skinny and even more hungry. It is surprising that Henry's surname was Wolf, translated from German - Wolf. All the boy's relatives were very far away, and his mother died altogether, so no one collected a bundle of food for him to work. What family the wolf had - no one will ever know. But for someone else, he was trying to steal a foal. The wolf wanted to eat, and Heinrich wanted to live.

Both pulled the foal in silence. Such is the quiet fight. The rest of the foals and mares huddled together and whinnied pitifully. Heinrich had no strength left to call for help, his fingers were numb. I had to endure until dawn. To survive, you just had to keep your fingers closed and endure, and then, perhaps, help will come. If you surrender, then for the loss of collective farm property, the boy was waiting for a labor army, or even execution. There was a war going on.

In the morning a local collective farmer with a gun rode past on a horse. Shot - the wolf ran away. And Heinrich had to unclench his fingers for a long time to unhook from the foal.

When I, for school essays and just for the sake of interest, asked my grandfather Andrey (it was already more common to call him that than Henry) about his childhood, about what he had to endure, about who was to blame for the horrors that befell his generation, he spoke reluctantly, very sparingly, without details, insults and accusations, drawing the line under the conversation: "It was such a time."

Grandfather died early - his heart could not stand it. He was a cheerful person, loved to sing and dance, always played with pleasure and fiddled with children, and called his children and grandchildren “you are my golden ones”. His family was the first in the village where a German married a Russian. Henry's relatives were not happy about this. And not all of Catherine's relatives were able to come to terms.

Children and grandchildren were the main value and happiness of the life of an international family. If Heinrich had not been silent and did not tolerate, we might not have been. It was such a time - it is dangerous to tell the truth, it is dangerous to do what is not approved by the party. Probably my grandfather never imagined that I would ever write this book.

But times are changing. Only I can’t ask my grandfather. My former German teacher Maria Andreevna and her husband tell me all the details. He and Heinrich rode on the same train, which took them away from their homes, lived in the same village. Maria Andreevna is Mariikhe, the heroine of the story "Wormwood Tree". She survived, grew up, learned, helped to plant the first garden in the village with the first apple trees in the area (then apples were not grown in the foothills of Altai). In the village, a sincere person and a wonderful teacher was loved and respected. And only the "bosses" used to spoil life. One of the stupid local leaders tried to accuse the teacher ... of espionage. Another tried to give an assignment - to listen and tell what the local Lutheran Germans were doing at religious meetings. The third banned a concert in the House of Culture, which was prepared by the German diaspora of the region. And the Marihe family was the first of the local Germans to decide to emigrate to Germany. It took courage then. No one knew if there would be an opportunity to meet with those who remained in the Soviet Union someday.

We talk for a long time. It's scary to listen. Imagining is even scarier. It is impossible to justify. Not to know is impossible. These stories are like an outstretched hand from the past. The one that will help you in difficult times. I feel it in both serious and small things. Once I was dropped off the train, something was wrong with the ticket. I was ready to burst into tears from such injustice, standing on the platform in an unfamiliar city, when my things calmly go to my compartment in the direction of the house. And ... she laughed, remembering how one of my heroes got home without tickets, food and documents, with burnt legs. He was a boy and - he could. And now, with his burnt hand, he seemed to shake me by the collar or give me an encouraging slap on the head. What stupidity against this background my problems seemed to me.

I enjoy every moment of my life, despite the troubles and at one time or another. Time - it passes. And something inside you remains forever. Simply, if it is difficult, you need to keep your fingers closed and endure until the morning.

Wormwood tree

With gratitude and love - to Maria Andreevna and Gennady Teodorovich Fitz, who decided to tell their stories, and also to Andrey Alexandrovich Wolf, who remembered everything, but tried not to tell

Daddy's order

The last time I saw my dad was when he lined the three of us next to mom and gave orders in a stern, quiet voice.

- Lily, - he began with the eldest. Lilya was to go to the fifth grade in a few days. - Lilya, take your favorite satchel and take all the books out of it. Everything, everything, even the most interesting ones. And put a bottle of water in it, this bag of crackers and change. Also put a note - what is your name, what is your mother's name and our address. And don't leave your portfolio anywhere! Always remember about him, keep him close.

Lilya immediately began to do what she was told. Although she would rather do without a change of clothes. Lilya is an excellent student and a scribe. More than anything, she wanted to become a teacher. Mina and I and all of our neighbour's children were exhausted with her playing school. Especially, of course, Mina. Mina did not like to study, she liked to run, jump and play. Mina also knew how to fight like a boy.

- Minochka. - Dad took Mina's hands and turned her to Mom. - Mina, you hold on tightly to your mother. Hold on to your skirt like this and don't let go. Don't run away, don't go aside. And if mom goes where, then you go with her. Or hold on to Lilya.

Mina immediately grabbed her mother's dress. Minochka was seven years old. She did not have a knapsack yet, and dad built her a backpack, where they also put crackers. The backpack hung comfortably on her back, and Mina's hands were free.

They didn't give me my backpack, and I prepared to cry.

- Mariikhe. - Dad picked me up in his arms, hugged me tightly, and then handed me over to Mom. - Mariikhe ... Helena, don't let Mariikhe get away with it.

I, of course, love to sit in my mother's arms. But recently I learned to run great and didn't want to sit on my arms at all.

Mom had a confused face. Such as if Mina and I ran away to play far, across the stream, to Miusu, or to a neighboring village to see her cousin and she could not find us for a long time. Or when Lilya asks us: "Well, answer, how much will one chicken plus one more chicken?" And we told her: "Rich broth!"

Olga Valerievna Kolpakova

Wormwood tree

The time is ...

Instead of a preface

Nobody likes prefaces. The reader does not like to read them, and the writer does not like to write. Because it’s as if you’re already standing at the edge of the forest, on the shore of an interesting story, and adults are holding your hand and explaining what animals are in the forest, what plants cannot be taken in your mouth and what to shout when you get lost. No, I would rather go there, in a mysterious, scary forest, in order to figure everything out myself.

In the morning a local collective farmer with a gun rode past on a horse. Shot - the wolf ran away. And Heinrich had to unclench his fingers for a long time to unhook from the foal.

Wormwood tree

With gratitude and love - to Maria Andreevna and Gennady Teodorovich Fitz, who decided to tell their stories, and also to Andrey Alexandrovich Wolf, who remembered everything, but tried not to tell

Daddy's order

The last time I saw my dad was when he lined the three of us next to mom and gave orders in a stern, quiet voice.

They didn't give me my backpack, and I prepared to cry.

- Mariikhe. - Dad picked me up in his arms, hugged me tightly, and then handed me over to Mom. - Mariikhe ... Helena, don't let Mariikhe get away with it.

I, of course, love to sit in my mother's arms. But recently I learned to run great and didn't want to sit on my arms at all.

So we saw dad to the village council. And then a cart came for us.

I really love to ride a horse! We once had Discord and Nimble at home. They only took them away from us. A long time ago. Then they took away all the horses. And the parents recently took the cow and the calf themselves and received a certificate in return. It's good that the cat Mimi stayed with us! We took her with us on a cart.

Our cart had several large bundles, a box of butter and beans, a bag of flour, a bale of blankets, our old grandmother and us. Our old grandmother is very, very strict. But on the other hand, she does not walk well, and we can easily run away from her if she begins to scold us. Her name is two names at once - Emilia-Katerina. Previously, it was possible to call it that. Mina and I also, one might say, had two names. When the adults were angry, they called us not Mina and Mariikhe, but Wilhelmina and Maria. And my grandmother also called us that in her prayers.

And Lilya has always been Lilya.

Not only we - everyone from our village went to the station. From the neighboring village where our cousin Theodore lives, everyone also drove. Theodore is a brawler and a brute. He shoots with a slingshot at pigeons and sparrows and calls us little ones. But now he sits quietly and does not call names. Next to his cart is Rex, Theodor's dog.

It was interesting and fun for me on my mother's lap. I haven’t skated that far on a cart, and even with Mimi.

Rex growls a little at Mimi, and Mina hides the cat under her coat.

We drove for a long time, Mina and I even wanted to use the toilet. Still, after all, for breakfast, my mother ordered to drink two full mugs of milk and finish sour cream. Mimi fumbled under Mina's coat and pressed her paws on her stomach. She probably wanted to go to the toilet too. The carriage was stopped in an already compressed field, and we ran for the heaps.

And then Mimi broke free and went home! Lilya and Mina were called, the cat was called, but she ran farther and farther. This is because dad did not order her to be with mom all the time! Theodore watched from his cart and grinned, and Rex barked.

The sisters began to cry, and I went with them. Mimi is a smart cat. She is older than Mina and me, even older than Lily. But why did she act so stupid? How will she live there alone? Cats don't even have a god to take care of her.

Then I remembered that Dad was not with us either, and I wanted to cry harder, but only there was a station ahead, and there was a train with huge wagons. For some reason I was frightened of the train and began to roar because of him, and not because of my dad.

“Hush, Mariikhe, quieter,” my mother told me. - Otherwise dad will hear and be upset. Say, “What is this roaring cow and bad girl? And where is my dear Mariikhe? "

Then I pushed so that dad would hear me for sure. Moreover, my dad didn’t tell me not to cry.

Why did we leave

Dad and many other men from our village were taken to the war. War was already very close to Rovnopol. Once we heard explosions. We sealed the windows in the houses with paper ribbons so that the glass would not hurt anyone if the window was suddenly smashed by an explosion. And at night they hung them with a blanket and blankets so that the Nazis did not see the light, and did not understand that there were people here, and did not drop bombs on us from planes.

Mina and I didn't really know what kind of war it was. Mom and Dad explained to Lilya. On the Soviet Union- the country where we live was attacked by another country. The country that attacked is called Germany. Germans live in Germany. Lilya did not understand anything. Because we are also Germans. Our boys, of course, sometimes fight with each other, but adults are not such fools! And also our boys sometimes fight with boys from other villages. Ukrainians live next to us, in a farm across the river. On the other hand, there is a Cossack settlement. The boys speak different languages, go to different schools, but sometimes they play and fight together. Then they reconcile, gather for pioneer rallies and sport competitions, walk in formation and burn bonfires. Lilya would like to become pioneer, then they would also let her go to the pioneer fire. But her grandmother would not let her, because pioneers should not believe in God.

Lilya's mother explained that once upon a time, a long, long, long time ago - even our grandmother does not remember this - Germans from Germany came to Russia. And they began to live here. And then - this is no longer a long, long, long time ago, but just a long, long time ago (grandmother remembers this), - Russia became the Soviet Union. It is the largest country in the world. And many, many live in it different nations... But most of all are Russians. There are also many Germans. And the main one in the country is the Georgian Stalin.

We are Germans. The Germans also attacked us. And all because every nation has people good and bad, evil and kind, greedy and generous. And everyone began to call bad Germans "fascists". This is how dad explained.

Lilya was very happy then that our ancestors had left Germany a long time ago. Who, I wonder, came up with this? What was his name? Maybe this is our great-great-grandfather? He saved the family from hunger, came to where they gave land. Now we have a big, big house, and a garden, and a vegetable garden, and an economy. And if they stayed in Germany, then suddenly they would also become fascists. Leela doesn't want to be a bad, evil German. She wants to be the kindest teacher in the world.

The adults reasoned among themselves very quietly: if the Nazis came to Rovnopolye, then maybe it’s okay? After all, they are also Germans, maybe they would have come to an agreement with them, they would have begun to live together. Maybe Stalin and the Red Army did the wrong thing, that they ordered everyone to leave their homes and leave?

Everyone was very sorry to throw stone beautiful houses, with curtains and furniture. You can't take everything with you. And a big beautiful tureen, and a dish for pies with painted piglets. The parents wrapped all the dishes in tablecloths and sheets, put them in a bucket, and lowered the bucket into the well. And the coffee can in which they were wedding rings, Mom just forgot. The jar remained on the shelf. And how could mom forget! This is a very bad omen.

The women at the station were crying. Aunt Jozefina fell on her bundle and shouted:

- We will be taken to Siberia! We'll all bend there!

Theodore stood next to his mother and was silent.

“People also live in Siberia,” said Lilya. - There the land is fat, black and everything grows well. There is also a lot of forest there.

But Aunt Jozefina kept crying and crying.

“Don't cry,” I told her. - Uncle Albert hears, says: "Roar-cow!"

- Get out of here, you little ones, - Theodore shouted at us, - so I don't see you!

But we still got into the same carriage.

“Just think, doesn’t want to see, let him close his eyes and don’t look,” Mina said.

What happened to dad

Our dad, when he was little, lived in the mountains, in the Caucasus. Lily has a picture of the Caucasus in her textbook. These are such beautiful lands! He told me what delicious grapes they grew. And then the war began. Not the one that is now, but the other, First, at the very beginning of the 20th century. But the Germans and many other peoples also fought in it. The Germans abroad behaved so badly, they started the war. And for this, the Germans in the Caucasus were forbidden to speak German! And in schools it was also forbidden to speak it. But dad did not have to go to school, because not even bad Germans, but Chechens began to attack the villages and farms. They attacked both Russian and Moldovan villages. They killed people, robbed houses, burned crops.

- Are the Chechens bad? Mina asked.

- Not. They are like everyone else. There are bad ones, there are good ones, - answered dad. - And there are both bad and good at once. Like Mariikhe, who jumps in a puddle and gets dirty all over. Or like Mina fighting Theodore.

- This is Theodore harmful, he is the elder and teases us, - said Lily.

And Lilya has never been bad with us. She was kind and fair.

Dad's house burned down along with the documents. When the Russians came, they took dad prisoner, although he was still a child. Because he was not a resident of Russia.

- Russians are stupid! - Lilya was angry. - After all, the documents were, but burned!

- Lilya, you can't say that! - the grandmother threatened with a finger, but not very severely.

- What are you, what are you! - mom shook her head and was angry that dad was telling such scary stories to his daughters.

“Russians are like everyone else,” sighed dad.

Dad and other guys were chained and driven from the Caucasus to Russia. And their parents were driven away. Dad's parents died, and he stayed with his older brothers. Dad grew up and married mom. And the war and then another revolution are over. And they began to work hard and live well.

But the grandmother is angry with the Russians, does not want to learn Russian at all and does not go to the village council on business. Russians banned churches, banned praying to God, which is not good at all. Without this, you can live on earth, but after death you will not get into the Kingdom of Heaven. And my grandmother really wants to go there. And we are not very good. We feel good on earth too.

Maybe the Germans who stayed in Germany were not as happy on earth as we were? Maybe they were poor, starving and decided to go and take away food and houses from others? But they could have just asked, Lilya would have shared. She always feeds all the dogs, cats, pigeons and even the swallows in our barn. Or that Hitler forced the fascists to go and conquer other lands by force, to prevent people from living peacefully?

For this war, dad, uncle Albert, uncle Heinrich and many others from our and neighboring villages were taken away so that they would defend their homes and all Soviet land from the Nazis.

They boarded a train and drove through one day, but then Nazi planes flew in and began dropping bombs.

The entire train was bombed. Those who died remained where they were. Those who are alive scattered. And who is wounded - crawled away.

Dad also crawled across the field. He was wounded in the leg. There were heaps in the field, and he hid. And Uncle Albert hid. Only dad did not hide well, the wounded leg was visible. When the planes took off, someone knocked on his boot. They were fascists. They gathered everyone they found and took prisoner. Uncle Albert was never found. He sat in the shock for a long, long time. Then Uncle Albert got out and at night began to sneak home to Aunt Jozefina. He came to Rovnopolye, but there was no one there. The houses were wide open, the remaining dogs howling. And everywhere there were fascists.

- You are a Jew! Or gypsies! They said to Uncle Albert. Uncle Albert has a big nose and dark hair... But he's German. It's just that he was born like that. And he has Theodore the most ordinary.

- Nine! - said Uncle Albert. The fascists did not believe him. They forced him to dig a hole, put him on the edge and shot him. Because the fascists did not just want to take over the whole world, they wanted kill all Jews and gypsies.

When we learned this story, Leela had no one to ask if Jews and Gypsies were good or bad.

Our dad didn't look like a Jew or a gypsy. Him Brown hair and eyes blue as the sky. Throughout the war he was a prisoner, worked on a farm in Poland. After the war, the lady, the owner of the farm, told him: "Adolf, Adolf, do not return to the Soviet Union, you will not find anyone, they will put you in jail!" But dad did not obey and returned. He didn't go to jail. But he did not start looking for us, but settled in Kazakhstan with his new wife. And now his name was Anatoly.

I think our dad was like everyone else. Both good and bad. The one that came before the war was very good. And the one after - no. And our good Lilya said:

- It would be better if they killed him!

- God is with you! - the grandmother threw up her hands.

- Then he would have ended up in the Kingdom of Heaven, don't you want that? - Lily answered insolently.

And mom just cried when she learned that dad was alive and now he had a new family.

If mom hadn't forgotten the wedding rings, maybe everything would have been different. Or maybe we, too, had to give dad an order so that he would not forget us, so that he would love us always, always, even if there was a war, and would return home. But we just hugged him - that's all.

On the train, we rode on the bottom bunk. And above us there was another regiment and another. We fenced off with a sheet so that we could go to the potty.

The car was without windows, but the men opened the door and it was getting brighter. We were accompanied by other people's dads who were not taken to the war. We thought then that they were very, very lucky. And Uncle Hans, and Uncle Jacob, and Karl. Their wives and children were not as sad as the others in the carriage. The men quickly ran at the stations for water, made a fire at the stops to cook hot porridge. Mom also ran for water and cooked porridge for us. But then we stayed in the carriage with my grandmother. And Mina and I started crying, because we didn't have to unhook from mom. We held on to Lilya and shouted until my mother came running with a pot of porridge. Then she again ran out into the street to pick up the two hot bricks on which the pot stood. And the train could leave any minute! Wilhelm is so lost in our carriage. He was already almost big and ran to fetch water for his grandmother. Wilhelm did not return, and his sick grandmother was so scared that she died. She was wrapped in a sheet and carried out of the carriage at the station.

“Everything is God's will,” said our grandmother.

Aunt Jozefina forbade Theodore to run for water so that he would not fall behind, and she did it herself. It was hard for her to run, she is very big and heavy. She even began to walk with Rex herself. But one day Rex couldn’t wait to stop.

He jumped out of the carriage when the men opened the door. For a long time we heard him whine, and also whined, although this is not our dog.

“He will run to Mimi and tell her how he rode the train,” Mom tried to console us.

- He got hit by a car. There, under the bridge, there is a road, - said Theodore and climbed onto the sled to the very ceiling. There he wept inaudibly. Tears fell from above to the edge of our blanket.

It was on the same day that Theodore's dad was shot.

We drove for a long time. It was impossible to walk on the carriage, because people were sitting and lying everywhere and everywhere, and we also sat and played at school or in “our house”. We played the last day at home very often. We slaughtered chickens, cooked broth, cooked bread, collected things, and those that we could not take were hidden in the well and in the attic.

When my sister got tired of playing at the house with me, we played Sleeping Beauty. Mina lay down and closed her eyes. And I had to bring her made-up sweets on a made-up tray or fan her out of a washcloth. We didn't have a prince, so no one kissed Mina and she fell asleep for real.

We didn't wash in the morning. Mom wiped our faces with a damp cloth.

Lilya told stories from textbooks. It turns out that there are much more rivers in Siberia than our Mius. And the city is bigger than Taganrog and Rostov-on-Don. The same birch trees grow there, as well as larch and fir trees. I have never seen such trees.

- In Siberia there are Altai, he looks like Switzerland, - added Lilya. Although none of us saw Switzerland either, everyone was surprised.

Mom sang to me quietly, in my ear. Aunt Jozefina cried because she didn’t know how she would live now, because although it looks like Switzerland, it’s the end of the world.

“The Lord will help,” our grandmother consoled her. - He will find a place for us, but no - so we will die, we are not the first, we are not the last.

Theodore was silent.

It turned out that we were driving not just for a long time, but for a long, long time. Because when we arrived, I forgot how to run. The legs were like cotton. I stayed at home like this big doll- all, except for the head, of rags and cotton wool, and she could only sit. Oh, how I wanted my Justina to come here!

Mom carried me out of the car in her arms. Mina held tight to her skirt. Lilya and grandmother watched our knots. We could not move them anywhere. They just rolled off the train downhill. Mom wrapped us in a blanket, we lay down on the ground and fell asleep. It was October. In the morning we helped my mother to tear the frozen plait off the ground.

The carts again came for us. We drove for two days. The grandfather who drove the horse wanted to talk to us all the time, but it was not easy. He did not know how to speak German, and we understood poorly in Russian. Only Lilya explained to him that we were Soviet Germans. That our dad is fighting the Nazis. He also began to speak briefly so that we would immediately learn: this is Siberia, this is the village of Berezovka, and he himself is grandfather Vanya by the name of Dedov, and his grandmother is not Babkina, as we might think, but also Dedova’s grandmother Nadya. And his son is in the war, and there is no one else, only bees and a lamb. But this horse, Redhead, she collective farm. She is already old, so she was not taken to the front.

End of introductory snippet.

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