The Seeds Will Grow

Svetla's Doll

The bread did not last, there simply wasn't enough of it.

Katya looked at what was left of her portion, then glanced at the ravenous eyes of her younger brother, Grishka, who was eyeing his sister's bread with a wild look of desperation.

"Here Grishka," Katya said, sliding the last sliver over to her 6-year-old brother, "you take it. I'm full."

Katya's mother smiled meekly at her eldest daughter's gesture, she knew the little girl was equally hungry.

None could remember what it was like to be full, to not desire food. Katya guessed it had been almost four months since the Germans closed off the city. It did not take long for food to become scarce.

The little boy greedily devoured the morsel of bread, then wet his finger to tidy up the small trail of crumbs it had made when Katya pushed it over to him.

"Grishka," his mother scolded him, "did you thank your sister?"

"Thank you," the boy grumbled, clearly wishing that Katya had given him the entire piece. His sister smiled at him anyway.

"You're welcome, Grishka," Katya chirped. She hopped down from her chair and helped her brother back over to the bed, as he was too feeble to get down from the chair on his own. Katya then scurried back to help her mother with her little sister, Svetla.

The little girl used to greet her older sister with an enthusiastic hug regularly, but now seldom found the strength to even look up whenever Katya would help her into the bed. She tucked her in, next to Grishka, who was already curled up in a ball, trying to conserve heat.

"Your turn, mama," Katya said to her approaching mother. "Hurry before you get too cold."

Katya glanced at the empty coal bucket next to the stove, wishing it had one or two pieces in it. Those had been used up just a few weeks ago, after her mother had carefully saved it for the coldest of winter nights. Tonight was not nearly so cold, but still the family huddled into the small bed, dressed in as many clothes as they could wear at once, hoping to stay warm through another night.

"The first thing I'm going to do when the Germans leave is build a big fire and cook a big meal for all of us," Katya declared to her mother as the woman eased in next to the children.

"That sounds nice," her mother said softly.

"When will the Germans go home?" Svetla asked, her voice brimming with an innocent ignorance of the continuing siege.

"I don't know, dear," her mother replied, trying to stifle what would inevitably devolve into a barrage of questions from the two younger children about the Germans, the explosions, why there was no food, why they had no coal and whether their father would come home.

Katya sensed her mother's exhaustion at the subject and quickly turned the conversation.

"Svetla," she chided, extending her arms toward her little sister, "you forgot to bring Tulya."

The little girl stretched from the tangle of arms in the bed to reach for the doll, pulling it in close to her chest as if to keep it warm. Katya climbed into the bed as well, facing her mother and sandwiching the two smaller children between herself and her mother, trying to conserve as much heat as possible.

Her mother wrapped her arms around her eldest daughter, wishing she could simply remain a little girl, free of the responsibilities of helping care for her family. She thought about the next trip for the rations, and the possibility that Katya would be the only one strong enough to make the trip to the warehouse to collect them.