After this story, you will want to give a big hug or at least call your parents.

Often, running after our happiness and career, among other goals, we end up spending less time with our parents and grandparents. We forget them, while they always remember us. The short story “Once upon a time there was a woman…”, by the young writer Alissa Atreydas, was based on one of these stories.

After reading this story, all of us on the awesome.club we immediately called our parents, to at least ask how they were doing.

We bought a house in the village, which a couple was selling. Their parents didn’t need the house, and the grandmother had died a year before… After the woman’s death, no one visited the house, they only came once, to sell it. We asked if they would like to take grandma’s belongings. The young people replied that they had taken the paintings with religious images and that we could throw everything else away. My husband looked at the walls, which were clearly marked with icons.

“Why didn’t they take the pictures?”

We saw the pictures of women, men and children… It looked like a dynasty. In the old days, decorating walls with pictures was a tradition.

I remembered the times when my grandmother would hang the new pictures in frames, of me and my sister, every time I arrived at her house.

My grandmother always said:

“In the morning, I wake up, bow to parents, give my husband a kiss, a smile for my kids, a wink for you. Only then does my day begin.

When my grandmother passed away, we hung her pictures. Since then, every time we arrive in the village (which we call a farm), we give grandma a kiss in the morning. At the time, we seem to smell cakes and milk, as if she were there with us. My grandfather was killed in the war, we never saw him, but his picture hangs right in the center of all the pictures. Grandma spoke a lot about him, while we felt that he was with us, only being younger than her. Now, her picture hangs there, too…

These images, which have now lost their color, are so precious that I wouldn’t even think twice about what to take with them. But the couple we met not only left the photos hanging alone, they considered them useless, acting in a cynical way. However, everyone takes care of their own nose.

After we bought the house, we started to pack up, and you know… we couldn’t throw away all of that woman’s belongings. She lived doing everything for her children and grandchildren, while they left her aside. Where did I get this information from? She sent several letters to them. First, she would write and send them, but without getting a response. Afterwards, she stopped sending, leaving only three piles of love and affection, piled up on the nightstand. Forgive us, but we’ve read everything… and we understand why she hasn’t sent anything else. The letters could have been lost, while at home they would have been well kept. She hoped the letters would be read after her death…

In them, she described her whole life during the war, told about her parents, grandparents and great-grandparents. The woman relayed everything she had heard from her grandmother, so that family values ​​would not be forgotten. We couldn’t throw that away.

“Should we give this to her children?” I proposed to my husband, crying. “We have no right to throw it all away!”

“Do you think they’re better than the grandchildren?” asked her husband doubtfully. “No one came to visit her…

“Maybe they’re old now, sick, who knows…

“I’ll call them and ask.”

The woman’s grandchildren gave us their parents’ numbers. When we called, we heard a female voice, in a good mood:

“Oh, you can throw it all away!” She sent a bunch of letters, we stopped reading them after a while! She had nothing to do, it was just a way for her to have fun…

My husband didn’t even listen to her until the end, he ended the call. He said if they were talking in person, she wouldn’t talk like that!

– Do you know what I think? You are a writer, tell the stories of these letters!

“And if they get mad…”

“I’m sure they don’t read that kind of book!” replied my husband, ironically. “But for you, I’ll find them and ask for official permission.

He actually found them and legally registered all the rights. Meanwhile, I went down to the basement. It is always cold in the cellars of the farms, and many keep there jars of cucumbers, jam… Each jar had a label, which had faded: “For my Joãozinho, his favorite mushrooms” (Joaozinho died 10 years ago, he didn’t win the present), “For my Sofiazinha, the peaches”, “For Anatolio, the cucumbers”, “For Mariazinha, the raspberry from the forest”…

PS Anna Lukyanovna had 6 children. They all predeceased her (mostly by accidents), with the exception of the youngest daughter, who considered all her mother’s belongings useless…

At the same time, the mother expected the children to come with the grandchildren, prepared the pots, made the labels filled with love… She made the last ones last year, when she was 93 years old. Yes, 93 years!!! And she picked mushrooms and berries in the forest for her grandchildren! While they…