In our days of the pandemic of corona virus COVET-19, two meters’ social distancing and wearing masks, many artists are contributing to the society to be calm and peaceful.
My contribution is the publication of my new book “The Magic Power of Memories”.
The book is about my sister Emma, brother Gennadiy and the first class of the All GIrls’ Bryansk School #1 of the graduation year of 1954 (Junior High).
Chapter One. The Dream.
The dream came to me, just before the dawn, as always happened to me if ever happened. I do not walk but float above the ground, approximately 10-20 centimeters in such a manner that one could have an impression that I am levitating in the air. As if the passers-by saw me, they would never guessed that I were different from them. They would consider that I am one of them.
As far as I remember correctly, the same feeling was described in one of the books about Serafim Sarovsky when the nun described the presence of Serafim Sarovsky later:”We just talked to him in the Monastery and said “Good by! ” to each other. And I left. Then I met my girl friend and together we went to the fields, talking merrily between ourselvs, and all of a sudden we felt the presence of the other person accompaning us. We looked behind and saw Serafim Sarovsky was next to them: not walking on the ground but levitating just above the earth. He was not participating in the conversation but was present. How could it be that he is present at two places at once?- thought the nun”.
Back to my dream. I am in the crowd, feeling that my scarf is dirty, I started to look for a place where I could clean it from mud. Looking around I saw the strange people, all unfamiliar and spooky. My feeling was unpleasant, everybody looked at me hostile, my conciousness prompted me that somewhere must be Janko, the only friendly face among them. From nowhere , the image of the sauna appeared. “Oh! This is the place where I can clean the dirty stains.” reflected myself and dived into the entre-chambre of the sauna. In the adjacent room through the glass I saw the people, arrogant and rich, in majority males.
They looked at me estranged as though somebody sees you and do not see you, with empty eyes. Their faces were ugly, distorted by anger and hatred. As if they were in masks of anger. One of them approached me and said:”I want to talk to you.” “Talk.” I responded.
I finished the cleaning job and flew to the exit.
The ugly face pursued me. “Talk.” I shouted to him. No word in response.
Suddenly the hole opened on my way. Unexpectedly, I slipped into it. It seemed to be the well. Close to the surface with the scarf spreading along the walls.
“Give me a hand.” I breathed out. No word in response. With the last strength which I collected, I pushed myself out of the hole.
I woke up.
The magic meaning of my dream: “Always rely on yourself, nobody gives you a hand, a real hand, such people who give a hand. do not live long, they are passing away, so “Rely on yourself!” And keep on going. Where to? To the light.
The lights of my life were sister Emma and brother Gennadiy. And the first classmates of the class led by our first school teacher Nina Nikolaevna Ledneva. (to be continued)