Chapter 19 centenarian old lady

A lady said to me the other day: "I started late that morning, and it was almost noon when I walked out of the house. As if I was getting involved on purpose, I happened to be on Nikolaevsky Street. Go to two places not far apart. Go to the office first, and you can see the old lady by the gate. She gave me the impression of being so old, stooped, and leaning on a cane, but I still can't guess How old is she? She came to the gate and sat on the yard sweeper's bench to rest in a corner by the gate. In fact, when I walked past her, she just flashed in front of my eyes. . "About ten minutes later, I came out of the office and walked two houses past a shop where I had ordered a pair of leather shoes for Sonya last week, so I went to get them back. I looked and saw The old lady has come to the store now, also sitting on the bench by the gate. She sits there and looks at me, and I smile back. I go into the store to get the leather shoes. Yo, three or four minutes later, When I continued walking towards Nevsky Prospekt, I saw that the old lady had already come to the third house, also by the gate, but instead of sitting on the bench, she was leaning against the protrusion of the wall. There is no bench by this gate. I suddenly stopped in front of her involuntarily, thinking: Why does she sit down in front of every house?

"'Ma'am, are you tired?' I asked. "'Tired, dear, I'm always tired. I see it's warm and sunny today, so I'm going to the granddaughters' for dinner.'" 'Are you going to dinner, ma'am? ''Honey, it's time to eat, it's time to eat. ''You can't get there like this, right? ''No, you can walk.See, I walk like this for a while, rest for a while, then get up and go again. 'I looked at the old lady, and I was very surprised.The old lady is short in stature, clean and shabby, she must be from a petty citizen.She was on crutches, her face was pale, her skin was sallow, her lips were bloodless, she looked like a mummy.She is sitting, smiling, the sun bathing her body.

'Grandma, are you probably very old? ' I asked casually. 'One hundred and four, honey, I'm one hundred and four, it's just (she was joking) . . . where are you going? ' She looked at me and smiled happily.Does she want to talk to someone?I was surprised that the centenarian cared so much about where I was going, as if she really wanted to know. 'Well, ma'am,' I said, laughing too, 'I bought a pair of leather shoes for my daughter at the store, and I'm taking them home now. ''Hey, little leather shoes, do you have a little daughter?How lucky are you to have any other children? ' She looked at me again and smiled.Her eyes were absent-minded and almost lifeless, but there seemed to be a kind flame radiating from them.

'Grandmother, if you like, take five kopecks from me and buy yourself some white bread,' and I gave her the five kopecks. 'Why did you give it to me?Alright, then I'll take yours, thank you. ''Take it, ma'am, don't mind,' she accepted.Obviously, she's not begging, she's not that far yet.She took it carelessly, not at all as a charity, as if she had done it out of politeness or good intentions.But maybe she liked it too, because who would talk to an old woman like her?Not just talking, but caring for her with love? 'Well, goodbye, old lady. ' I said 'bless your journey. ''I'll get there, my dear, I'll get there, I'll get there.You go to your granddaughter. 'The old lady made a mistake.She forgot that mine was a daughter, not a granddaughter, and probably thought she and I both had granddaughters.I walked forward and looked back one last time to see her rise slowly and with difficulty, poke the ground with her cane, and shuffle along the street.Maybe she'll have to rest ten more times on the way before she gets to her 'dinner'.Where does she often go to eat?Such a weird old lady. "

I heard the story that morning.Actually, that's not really a story, but an impression of meeting a centenarian (actually, when can you meet a centenarian, and a centenarian who is spiritually alive?) , so I forgot all about it.It was late at night, I put the magazine aside after reading an article in the magazine, and suddenly remembered the old lady, and for some reason I drove myself to continue to imagine: How did she walk to her granddaughter's house for dinner? ?Another, probably very realistic small picture floated before my eyes. Her granddaughters, maybe including her great-granddaughters, she has already called them granddaughters, they are probably from the same industry, and naturally they are from the same family, otherwise how could she come to their house to eat.They lived in the basement, and probably rented a barber shop.They were poor, of course, but they still had to make a living, and they had to behave.It was about one o'clock in the afternoon when the old lady arrived at her granddaughter's house.They did not expect her to come, but probably greeted her very kindly.

"It is you, Maria Maximovna, come in, come in, welcome, slave of God!" The old lady walked in with a smile on her face, and the doorbell was still ringing piercingly for a long time.One of her granddaughters must have been the barber's wife.The barber himself is not very old, about thirty-five years old, but he can be regarded as a teacher by profession.While the workmanship is uncomplicated, the overalls are as greasy as pancakes.Whether it is due to the use of cosmetic balm, I don't know.However, I have never seen such a "hairdresser", as if the collar of their overalls is always covered with dust.Three children - a boy and two girls - immediately ran to the great-grandmother.As a rule, old women of such a great age get along very well with children for some reason: they themselves have become quite childlike in psychology, and are sometimes even exactly like them.The old lady sat down; the host didn't know whether he was receiving guests or was busy with something else.An acquaintance of his who was about forty years old was preparing to leave.His nephew, his sister's son, a young man aged sixteen or seventeen also came to visit. He wanted to work in a printing factory.The old lady made the sign of the cross and sat, looking at the guests.

"Oh, how tired! Who are you here?" "It's me!" replied the visitor, laughing. "Marya Maximovna, don't you recognize me? The year before last we went with you to the woods to gather mushrooms." "Oh, it's you, I know, a good joker. I remember you, but I can't remember your name, and which one are you? Oh, I remember. Ouch, I'm a little tired. " "Maria Maximovna, you are a respectable old man, why don't you look old at all, then I want to ask you," the guest joked. "Then just say it!" The old lady seemed to be joking, but she was really happy in her heart.

"Maria Maximovna, I am a kind fellow." "It's interesting to talk to you, a good man. Ouch, I'm dying of suffocation, my God. Seryozhenka's coat looks ready, doesn't it?" She pointed to the nephew and said. The nephew, a stout, fat boy, was now turning over with a big smile on his face; he was wearing a brand new gray overcoat.He couldn't help being overjoyed at the new coat, and it took him about a week to calm down.Now he kept looking at the cuffs, the collar, and the whole body in the mirror, feeling extremely satisfied. "Hey, come here, turn around," the barber's wife burst out, "Maximovna, look how beautifully made this coat is, and it cost six rubles, which is a bargain." Yes. Pudokhorich said that it is more than this amount now. He also said that this price will not be available in the future, and the clothes will last for a long time.

Look at the material!Hey, turn around!How good is this lining, really strong, really strong.Hey, turn around and take a look!That's how money is spent, Maximovna, we've run out of money. " "Oh, my God, what can I do now that the price of goods is so high, you'd better not tell me this, lest I feel bad." Maximovna said emotionally, still unable to calm down. "Well, don't say any more," said the host, "it's time for something to eat, how is it? I think you are very tired, Maximovna." "Oh, wise man, I'm tired. It's warm and sunny today, and I'm coming to see you when I think about it... I really want to lie down. Ah, I met a lovely lady on the way, she Very young, buying leather shoes for the child, she said to me: 'Hey, old lady, what are you doing, are you tired? Well, five kopecks for you, and a white bread for yourself...' You know, I took That five kopecks..."

"Grandma, you'd better rest for a while, why are you so out of breath today?" the host suddenly said with special concern. Everyone looked at the old lady, and when they saw her face changed drastically, her lips turned white.She also looked at everyone, but her eyes were a little lost. "Well, I'd like... some honey biscuits for the children... five kopecks..." She stopped talking again and took another breath.Everyone fell silent for about five seconds. "What's the matter, grandma?" said the host, bending over her. But the old lady made no answer; there was another silence, for another five seconds.The old lady's face seemed to have become paler, and her face seemed to have become thinner.Her eyes were motionless, and a smile froze on the corners of her mouth; she stared blankly, as if she had lost her vision.

"Go and get the pastor!..." The guest suddenly whispered urgently from behind. "Yes...no...is it too late..." the host muttered. "Grandmother, grandma?" the barber's wife called to the old woman, panicking; but the grandma did not move, her head was tilted, and the five kopecks were held in the right hand on the table, while the left was still on the other side. Parked on the shoulder of the eldest great-great-grandson Misha, who is about six years old.Misha stood motionless, staring at her great-grandmother with wide, frightened eyes. "She's gone!" the master sighed, solemnly said every word, and lightly crossed himself. "Look! I think she's really dying," said the visitor, intermittently, with emotion; and he looked round all present with astonishment. "Oh, my God! What do you think we're going to do now, Makaritch? Send her there?" chirped the hostess anxiously and bewildered. "Where is that place?" The host said calmly, "Let's do the funeral here. Aren't you a relative of hers? You should report for the funeral." "Ah, one hundred and four years old!" The guest didn't leave, he was more and more moved, and even blushed with shame. "Yes, in recent years she has even cared about her life," said the hostess solemnly. He was so proud that he took off his overcoat while looking for his hat. "No, she was smiling and very happy just now! You see, she still has the five kopecks in her hand! And she said she wanted to buy honey biscuits, alas, our old lady!" "Well, shall we go? Pyotr Stepanitch," interrupted the host.So the two went out.Naturally, people did not cry for the old man's death.One hundred and four years old, "died without disease and with nothing to be ashamed of". The hostess went to the neighbors for help, and they almost ran to the news, sighing and shouting, almost gladly.Needless to say, the first thing to do is to make the samovar.The children hid in the corner in amazement, looking at the deceased great-grandmother from a distance. No matter how long he lived, Misha would remember his great-grandmother, remembering how she left a hand on his shoulder when she died.And when he died, no one in the world would remember or know that there was such an old lady who lived to be one hundred and four years old.Why and how she lived—no one knew.Why remember it, you know, it's all the same anyway.Millions of people have also left in this way: to live without a sound, to die without a sound.Perhaps these centenarians seem to have something touching and ordinary, or even something important and unremarkable, only at the end of their lives, because until now there has been nothing surprising about being a hundred years old.May God bless the life and death of good people! However, this is nothing more than a handy description without a certain plot.Honestly, you could have said something more compelling from the story you heard a month ago.How to proceed?Saying either just isn't the thing, or has nothing to do with the thing itself, or "isn't all that you know," and yet still ends up leaving something that's just the most plotless...