Matrenin Sokolok (Falcon)

On a cold February night, the unfortunate child had to haul twenty buckets of ice water from the hole, otherwise they wouldn’t let him into the house… In an old sweatshirt, with hands shaking red from the cold, he drags buckets.

The icy wind blows in the face, does not let the farmhand into the house… He went into the warmth for a minute, and again into the cold. “I’ll sit down and rest a little,” the boy decided and sat down on the ice near the ice hole. After some time, the cold began to recede. The boy curled up into a ball, pressing his thin knees to his chest, and closed his eyes. It became even warmer. “The owner won’t find me here; he’ll be afraid to go out into the cold at night. I’ll sleep a little, just five minutes,” the child thought in his sleep. For the first time in twenty-four hours, he warmed up, hunger retreated somewhere.

The boy felt like he was at home. It was like he was curled up in his mother’s lap. The fire burns brightly in the stove, and Matrena strokes his head and sings a lullaby. But it was just a dream, the last dream… A twelve-year-old child, exhausted from work and hunger, was quietly dying, alone, sitting on the ice on a frosty night.

Matrena woke up in the middle of the night, her heart was pounding. “My little sokolik, Vanyusha,” she whispered. There was only one thought in the head – to run after her son, pick him up, save him. The feeling of anxiety did not leave the mother; one after another, terrible pictures appeared. “No, everything is fine with my son,” Matrena reassured herself. But as soon as it was light, she harnessed the old horse to the sleigh and set off for Zimovye.

Morning, an enraged landowner is looking for his farmhand. He didn’t get any water or a worker that night. The man noticed the figure of a boy on the ice, near the ice hole. Cursing, he ran up to the child, but even such a callous person caught his breath from what he saw. Vanyusha was sitting on the edge of the ice hole, his frosted face was happy and calm. The landowner was frightened, he ran into the yard and bolted the gate. But the child was not going to be carried to him. The deceased boy was taken in by an old lady. Vanyusha was washed and dressed in clean clothes…

The news of the tragic death of the little worker instantly spread throughout the village. As soon as Matrena entered Butakovo, she was immediately informed about the death of her son. Soon Vanyusha, carefully covered with a sheepskin coat, was already lying in the sleigh. The orphaned mother sat nearby, white as snow. There were no tears. As if Matrena had no vitality left even to mourn her son.

The mother and son accompanied the whole village. Matrena stopped the sleigh at the house of the cruel rich man. “Vanyusha worked for him,” the woman whispered faintly. “Maybe he’ll pay what’s due.” And loudly shouted the landowner by name. With a grin on his face, the owner of the house went out into the yard. Matrena did not hesitate a minute. She immediately snatched a gun from the sledge, prepared for a wild animal. A shot rang out, the landowner collapsed like a sack on the porch.

None of the villagers reproached Matrena for her action. She silently hit the horse with her whip, and it rushed forward. As soon as the last huts were out of sight, Matrena got off the sleigh and took her son in her arms. She hugged Vanyusha tightly to her, as if she was trying to warm the child with her warmth and bring him back to life. “Don’t cry, my son,” she whispers, kissing her son on the forehead. – Be patient a little, we will come home soon. I will dress you warmly and take you to that hill where you loved to play so much. You will lie on its very top so that the sun will always shine on you. So that you can see your village and your mother, who could not save you…” So Matrena walked almost all the way to Ridder. When she saw people running towards her, her strength left her. Together with her son, the mother fell into the snow. Matrena buried Vanyusha at the top of the hill that rises above Ridder.