Lump of sugar from Vanka

The story in question was told to me by a native of Leningrad, Antonina Aleksandrovna Karpova, nee Eliseeva. About this amazing woman, teacher, director of one of the Lipetsk school number 29 (Antonina Aleksandrovna came to Lipetsk when she was already an adult), I previously wrote here, on the Military Review. Today we will talk about the acquaintances of Antonina Alexandrovna - aunt Nina and aunt Zina. These two elderly women were friends, neighbors and, one might say, voluntary grandmothers of the children of one large Leningrad courtyard. That's why everyone called them that - without patronymics, in a homely way.

... Hard days of siege were passing. Even in the early days of hunger, Aunt Nina and Aunt Zina gathered their children almost every day. They did not have children of their own, so they cooked a large pot of "vitamin" soup for strangers, in which they occasionally came across dried parsley and carefully boiled and turned into jelly potatoes with peels. The women understood that the children would have the hardest time. And we tried to help them as best they could. The kids also loved adoptive grandmothers. Who will draw the postcard, who will read the poems. Mothers, however, tried once again not to let them see their grandmothers, so as not to take away the latter. But the old women were firm in this matter. "How much do we need, but they live!"

When the supplies were finished, the wallpaper was torn off and all the paste was boiled, and the card norms were reduced, Aunt Nina and Aunt Zina did not give up. They cut off about a third from their meager rations (why cut it off there ...). Soaked in water, grinded - a bowl of a kind of soup was obtained. Each woman divided this plate in half and invited two children to her place - strictly in turn. I must say, the yard was large, many children lived here before the war. Many, however, were able to evacuate, but still about fifteen people remained. Some grew up with my mother alone, some in a large family. Everyone was helped. And she came in the face of two old women who, barely dragging their feet, tried to help the children not to fall into the clutches of death.

But hunger and old age took their toll. It is more difficult for Aunt Zina to come, she was seven years older than her friend and carried a large load in her heart - the loss of her only son, who died as a boy, falling under a car. Every day, Aunt Zina moved more and more heavily. Her stick was no longer briskly knocking, but illegible shuffling on the asphalt.

One day the woman returned home after purchasing cards. Her path, as always, lay past the bakery. Here, Aunt Zina overtook a great weakness. She sat down heavily on the asphalt and closed her eyes. Aunt Zina was not afraid of death, no. But the kids were sorry. Here they are, before they were strong, but now they are like skeletons. Who will help them, who will give them an extra plate of blockade bread soup?

- Granny, but granny! - through the noise in her ears the woman heard a voice.
With difficulty she opened her eyes. A boy stood in front of her, looking sympathetically into her face.
- Babus! They took your bread while you were lying, I saw. Some boy took it. Thought you were dead.
- Yes, I probably died, granddaughters, - said Aunt Zina. - Or I'll die today. I can't get up.
- Maybe I can help you?
Aunt Zina glanced at her interlocutor. As thin as her kids neighbors. Only the eyes are livelier. This is good, this is a good omen.
“You can't help here,” said Aunt Zina. - Go, boy, thank you. Do you know what you want before you die?
- Apples? The boy asked for some reason.
- No. A lump of sugar. Well, go ...
And then something happened that Aunt Zina could not later talk about without tears. The boy smiled and pulled out a dirty handkerchief from his bosom. Unfolded - and put a piece of sugar right into the woman's mouth!
- I should have said right away, old lady! I took it for my mother, but she died in the hospital.

As if it wasn't sugar that ended up in Aunt Zina's mouth, but some kind of miracle cure. She wanted to spit out a precious piece - she took it from the child, from the boy! - but could not. Teeth clenched by themselves, did not obey. I was about to ask what the boy's name is, where he lives, but that has already disappeared. And she, coming to her senses, began to cry, as only one who has experienced many difficulties and suddenly saw a real good miracle can cry.

Aunt Zina returned home empty-handed. On that day, she had nothing to feed the children, and she was very worried about this. But she was glad that tomorrow she would come to their aid again.

Some time has passed - maybe a few weeks, maybe months. Everything was confused, confused in the hard, hungry life of Aunt Nina and Aunt Zina. It seemed to them - only one endless, difficult day lasts.
Once they knocked on Aunt Nina. A soldier stood on the threshold, holding two large duffel bags in his hands.
- Who do you want, son?
“Take it, mother,” the soldier handed the sacks to the woman. - I thought I'd visit my own people, I would make them happy, but here's another friend who also asked his relatives to find him. And there is no one, the houses are empty ... They died, therefore ... Well, take it, take it ...
And he hurried out, almost ran out.
Aunt Nina untied the ropes - and even gasped. She had never dreamed of such wealth: several cans of canned food, bread, crackers and a small piece of bacon! No, the woman was not happy about other people's troubles. But she felt calmer because now for more than a week the kids in her yard will be almost full.

She called Aunt Zina, together they held advice on how to stretch the food, what to cook. Aunt Zina asked for a can of stew and went to the bakery. She hoped to meet the very boy who had once saved her.
An amazing story must and end amazingly. Not right away, but still, Aunt Zina met her savior. She was already afraid that the boy had died of hunger - and he was alive! ..

More time passed, the blockade was left behind. Aunt Nina died just before the Victory. And her friend lived for about ten more years. Yes, not alone, but together with her adopted granddaughter - Vanya. And everything seemed to her that this was not a boy who would once bend over her at the bakery and put a piece of sugar into her mouth, but her own blood, the son of her deceased son. That is why she loved him without memory. And her Vanka too. And aunt Zina had fifteen grandchildren. They did not live with her, but they often came to visit and brought various tasty things. This is what happens in good strong families.

A source: https://topwar.ru/110828-kusok-sahara-ot-vanki.html