Elena Speranskaya - Three Stars. FAIRY TALES FOR CHILDREN AND YOUTH

© Elena Speranskaya, 2019

ISBN 978-5-4496-1496-4

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

My story begins with the birth as for all people who are more or less versed in the laws of nature. Falling leaves were in full swing, causing positive emotions among passers-by. Wonderful days of the height of autumn were coming to an end, but there was no doubt that winter would overshadow the withering nature with its lace blizzard and bitter frost with extraordinary beauty and force.

Fortunately, the maternity hospital was located not in another city, but in the very center of one of the oldest cities on the Volga river with a rich past, a large number of merchant houses, squares, parks and cultural monuments. But for the child such a disproportion in the development of his external data and antiquity did not matter. The baby did not harbor hatred or resentment towards his already mature parents, but enjoyed the fact that he was born in the family of the great racer and hero of the battle of Khalkhin Gol – Sergey and two “naive” adults who already have a first-grader son.

These husbands and wife agreed that if a boy is born, they will give him up for education in an orphanage, and if a girl is born, into a decent family, meaning that they are loved, so that in the future she can return to her father’s house and become a support for her old and retired parents. They have long been looking for a female donor, to whom a tenth pregnancy would be a burden, in order to equip their family nest with the least cost. The husband and wife swore real relatives that they would raise a girl in the best Russian traditions, since this served as a weighty argument in choosing a home from where she was born. The mother-woman stayed in the hospital, and her husband, a race car driver, could not take care of the baby, because he constantly trained and participated in international competitions, defending the honor of the country, so he would look for an intelligent couple who would care about the unborn child.

Trustees did not appear immediately. At first they lost some of their money while traveling around Europe and the world, and then in one of the restaurants in Stockholm met an elderly pregnant woman with a rather attractive husband-racer, who repented in conversation that he was very busy at work.

“Can you imagine how much work you need to get drunk,” he said, imitating the famous artist Filippov.

“No, we don’t imagine,” said an intelligent, middle-aged man, moving a plate of potatoes sprinkled with dill and tasting food with dignity to himself.

“And we represent,” their partners said in opposition, feeling their destiny in the world of grief and violence.

“We already have a son,” a senior-looking woman suddenly emerged with a Siberian behavior and an experienced soldier. “We have a little son. He is now in the kindergarten, but when we return, we will take him for good.”

“Dear compatriots,” Sergey immediately turned to her bluntly, “could you shelter a small miracle. My wife and I want to find her guardians.”

“We agree,” an intelligent man of about forty-five, the husband of a female soldier in a uniform tunic, supported the conversation. “Let’s celebrate this event with a glass of champagne.”

“We don’t have champagne,” Sergey said sedately. “That’s when I win the champion title, and then we will swim and pour champagne. This will happen in exactly one year.”

“Then we will set a date of birth and meet at the central maternity hospital,” his companion said. “We seem from the same city.”

“Excellent, but these issues are not resolved so quickly. It is necessary to formalize the adoption through a lawyer’s office,” the intelligent man – the husband of an outright soldier with the manners of a Siberian woman – made the proposal.

“Here we go back home, and immediately go down where necessary. We can even fly to the moon,” the pregnant lady calmed down, hitting everyone with her appearance and sensual hands. An intelligent middle-aged man thought that she was already his wife, and not a proud military woman, hurrying to buy property in any part of the planet, just not to be a “driven horse”, as she herself said before, admiring the old monuments of the capital of Sweden.

A group of tourists came out of the restaurant and headed towards the bus, passing forward the guide.

“We’ll see the embankment and the granite gilded tomb of the ancient Norman ruler – Vasa. And then we will return by the same route,” the guide announced to the megaphone.

The pacified parents of their young son, the future first grader, found a way to negotiate with their lawyer and patronage sister in their free time from the searches school uniform in the “Child’s World” store for their first child, brought to a one-room twenty-five meter private house from a 24-hour kindergarten. He dreamed of learning the basics of a primer.

“So, it’s done, you can start saving money for the next trip abroad,” the former military servicewoman correctly hinted to her faithful spouse.

“I accept your wishes with great pleasure, but we must take into account our needs for food and rest. My finances sing luxurious daisy romances.”

“Then start your own business or open a dictionary in order to understand how many unused words we have to describe the anthology of all family traditions and travels,” the former military servicewoman, introduced the rationalization proposal.

“A great idea,” the husband admired with the manners of a secular lion and continued reading the stale press left in the mailbox, but got it right after coming from the Scandinavian cruise.

Disorderly adults took the initiative and honestly took the girl home after the previous agreement, almost losing along the way, periodically pressing two children to the wall of the maternity hospital or to the trolley bus seat. But it soon turned out that the child had neither a father nor a mother. A week later she was sent to an orphanage with the police, so that adults who walked in honor of the birth of the girl did not lose a helpless baby in a fit of joy.

A brother of school age was limply watching the cussing and fighting of wife and her husband for the right to nurse the doll. They wondered what happened to the newly born baby, occasionally offering the frightened first grader to smell the bread.

But when, after a long training and competitive period, Sergey returned, he was fortunate to find that the child feels perfectly well under the shelter of an orphanage, under the careful care of professional nannies. This state of affairs calmed him down, but he did not lose hope of becoming the father of his son for the umpteenth time in order to raise himself a replacement in a race on a car that was in his garage.

“Consider that we have invested heavily in the birth, upbringing and care of children,” the guardians tearfully explained in court to experienced lawyers, when they deprived them of their parental rights, calling them “careless adults.”

“We hope that our heroic past will rush you and dot the ‘i’. Remember how much blood your wife shed for two and a half years of participation in the Patriotic War. Yes, her husband has a real arsenal of positive qualities,” the young lawyer instructed, wishing to move up the career ladder and become sometime a referee at sporting events and receive huge fees.

“Forgiven, but not a slave,” fearing that he would seem foolish, her husband was furiously indignant, quoting a classic.

“So, one more negative response or complaint and your old age will be under threat,” the lawyer said, narrowing his eyes and straightening his tie, defiantly looking at the board of trustees in the person of the district staff.