Pocket for God

I always wanted a beautiful life. When I was a student, and there was not enough money even for buckwheat, I bought the soap “Kamey”. Albeit hungry, but good smelling. Then - Zippo lighter. In the 93rd, when I bought it, it was worth a fortune. But she was worth it. It was cool. Like Mickey Rourke in the movie "Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Cowboy" or Bruce Willis in Die Hard. Well, the “mast hev” of the late nineties and the whole pre-iPhone era is the latest mobile phone.

I graduated from the Theater Academy, became a DJ on the Europe Plus radio station and a welcome guest at the most fashionable nightclubs in the northern capital. Then - the art director of one of these clubs. He was engaged in a set of beautiful girls for striptease and production of show programs.

Life, as they say, was a success! She turned into a solid party - all funny and beautiful, lots of laughter, dancing and money. During the day I slept, at night I helped others to have fun and had fun myself.

But still something was missing. There was a feeling of emptiness, anxiety, a cool draft, which I felt right inside me. The holiday was required more and more, and I created my own company for organizing events. Now the holiday has become my business.

***

And then ... Then came the new, 2005 year. Sick daughter, doctor, tests, urgent hospitalization and diagnosis - acute lymphoblastic leukemia. Blood cancer, if simpler.

The first children's city hospital. White Chamber, white corridor, doctors. Silence. Sterility. My daughter is a little over a year old, in a small handle there is a small catheter. Chemotherapy, hormones, she loses her hair and is rapidly getting fatter. Bald head, sad eyes. Stomatitis. In the hand with a catheter - sausage. It is almost round itself, because all-time eats, eats, eats ...

We lived in the hospital for half a year. I'm in the "assistant" mode, my wife - in the "permanent" mode.

They were hospitalized on December 23, in the midst of the New Year corporate parties. My wife and I went out to banquets every evening — I still had to work, leaving my grandmothers with the child. My wife in a beautiful suit sang “Happy New Year”, I joked and congratulated everyone on “Happy New Year and New Happiness”. Well-dressed women came there with evening make-up and carefully styled hairstyle. They brought high-heeled shoes with them, changed clothes in their wardrobe and went to dance under Ricky Martin or Tom Jones.

Right from the banquet we went to the hospital. In the cold whiteness of the chambers, to children without smiles, because the entire lower half of the face is a white rectangle of the mask, over which are big sad eyes. Children's masks were in short supply, so the adults would put the children on, tying the gum into a knot. Stunned unpainted moms in sweatpants and sneakers. It was a completely different life. Incomprehensible, scary, ugly.

Some children went home. Some just left.

The phones were silenced, all the "friends" disappeared somewhere, - probably, it was not fun to call us. It was very scary, and tormented by the question - for what? For children - for what?

***

The only thing I could do at that time was to arrange holidays.

Right in the hospital, I organized a children's tree, on which my friends worked great - “Peugeot's Theater of Wandering Dolls”, and he himself acted as Santa Claus. Perhaps it was one of the first events in recent years, where sober eyes were looking at me. The holiday took place right in the hall of the chemotherapy department, the children gathered at the dressed Christmas tree, all in masks - though not masquerades, but sterile - but they laughed and were happy, and the parents were happy with them, and it was ... Beautiful.

And quiet. For the first time in many years without alcohol, there was a warm silence in the shower. As if, at last, the door of my heart was covered more densely, and the draft stopped.

Then I went to the wards to which I could (I couldn’t go to the sterile boxes), - went like Santa Claus and wished happy New Year to the children who could not walk. I knew that some of them would almost certainly never leave this chamber, and it was ... not easy. To be honest - hard. And scary. But ... there was a feeling that for the first time in my life I was doing something right, that for the first time in my life I was participating in a real celebration of life, and I had never done anything more important and beautiful.

***

Daughter discharged. Gave a disability. We visited the center of social rehabilitation of disabled people and disabled children. Another New Year came, I offered to congratulate the children and again acted as Santa Claus. And then I was asked to conduct a theater studio in this rehabilitation center, and it was so strange: where am I - and where is the theater studio-circle for disabled children ?! However, I agreed. And a few years doing this.

On New Year's Eve I drove around the apartments of those children who did not leave the house. And it was even harder than in the hospital. And not because the children were special. But because next to them, next to their parents, whose every day life is a feat, I myself felt disabled. A person with disabilities, who until this time lived blind, deaf and paralyzed.

***
I myself needed rehabilitation, I learned to live again, and my disabled children became my teachers.

They are very beautiful.

***

Since then, more than ten years have passed.

Today I am the father of three healthy children, a film actor, a loved and loving husband, an athlete. The daughter recovered long ago, the disability was removed. 0na - clever, beautiful and excellent. I have not worked in nightclubs for a long time, a beautiful woman is waiting for me at home - only recently my wife received the crown of “Mrs. St. Petersburg”. I don’t need a lighter, I don’t smoke for many years, and the phone ... I have a push-button telephone. And he has a great battery!

My workbook is still in the Social Rehabilitation Center. For many years I have been hosting the “Constellation of Heroes” event, in which we present the Golden Sun Award - to people who did not surrender, being in a difficult life situation. These are real heroes who, like a plantain, punching the asphalt of all difficulties and limitations, strive for the light, giving hope and strength to all who are near.

The stronger the asphalt - the juicier the plantain!

It's important for me to remember this.

All that I especially appreciate today was the result of the very problems and difficulties that our family experienced. And the daughter's illness was an important stage in our growing up.

Was it possible without it? I do not know. Hardly. Apparently, I did not understand the other way.

The cause of events may not be in the past, but in the future, and the question “for what” then changes to the question “for what”. Pain is a good teacher and a wonderful doctor.

And no matter what tests today's life offers me (believe me, they are enough), I believe that these tests are like a pocket. A pocket for God, in which He will surely put as many candies as he can fit, and is enough to treat others, and they will still fall out.

In our family, that's what happened.

Maybe tomorrow it will be very painful again, perhaps.

I pray only about one thing - do not forget that the deeper the pocket, the more candy.

Nikita Plashchevsky