Mom is a donor

It is almost impossible to imagine, but even during the years of the blockade, Leningradians donated blood, and not a single hospital request for donor blood was left without satisfaction.

Mother Donor

Mom was tall, young and beautiful. She was even invited to play in the movie “Peter the Great”, but for some reason her father did not allow her. She worked as an accountant, and during the blockade she was one of the dedicated Leningrads who saved the life in the besieged city.

In December, forty-first mother became a donor.
She lay on a white table, all in white, and watched her blood dripping into a bottle, which saved a seriously wounded, dying defender of Leningrad. Weakness spread through my body, my head was spinning slightly, but there was a happy smile on my mother's face. Mom imagined how she would bring home a donor ration home today!
At home, mom said that they gave gifts at work and divided the ration equally into all.
Then we found out what price mom pays for these "gifts."

In February, mother managed to donate blood twice. After the second delivery, she walked almost three hours from the corner of Nevsky and Liteiny, where there was a store for donors, to Candle Lane. One and a half tram stops! .. "Most of all I was afraid that I wouldn’t carry a donor ration if I didn’t get there," she admitted.
- So why didn't you eat from your ration? - asked grandfather. - Forces would be added.
Mom shrugged and replied:
- And somehow it never occurred to me that I would be alone.
And in March, the blood did not go. The doctor shook his head, spread his hands, and ordered the nurse to pour sweet tea to his mother, who relied upon blood donation.

April 15 went to the trams. That day my grandfather died.
Returning from the funeral, my mother lay down on the couch. I took the book, but could not read. Before his eyes stood a mound of graves freshly poured.
“Mom,” I asked quietly, “isn't it too cold for grandfather?”
Mom did not answer.
- Mom! I called louder.
Mom was silent.
- Mama? - I said frightened, without taking my eyes off her gray, pointed profile. Then he turned his gaze to his chest, trying to catch his breath. The chest was immobile.
- Mama! - I shouted. - Mama!..
Mom's eyes opened slowly and for some time looked at the ceiling and walls, just did not recognize our room. Then they stopped at me, anxiety appeared in them.
- What are you, Tolyusha?
Tears spilled from my eyes. I rushed to my mom. Sobs prevented me from saying:
“I thought you were ... too ... like a grandfather ...”
Mom stroked my hair, on my back, until I calmed down. She said quietly:

“I think I was already there, but your cry brought me back here ...”

Molchanov A.V.