The classroom was silent as students concentrated on their test papers. Albina Romanovna, their stern teacher, paced back and forth, keeping a watchful eye on them. Suddenly, a knock at the door drew her attention, and she stepped out of the room.
“Hey, Tarasov!” sneered Genka Rodkin from the front row, breaking the silence. “Did the hobos pitch in for your prom tux?”
The room erupted in laughter.
“Or maybe he just couldn’t find one his size!” Lena Timokhina added, her voice dripping with mockery.
Vova kept his eyes fixed on his paper, his cheeks burning. What could he possibly say? Arguing with them would only make things worse. Instead, he focused on finishing his test, clinging to the thought that the end of the school year would soon bring relief. With summer approaching, he’d leave this cruel environment behind.
When Albina Romanovna returned, the class fell silent, fearful of her sharp discipline. The bell finally rang, and Vova handed in his test and left the classroom last, hoping to avoid further humiliation.
As he walked home, his heart sank. His mother, Olga, would likely be drunk again, surrounded by her so-called friends. The thought of facing her sent a wave of anxiety through him. He longed to escape, to build a life far from this misery. For now, he had no choice but to endure.
When Vova reached home, his fears were confirmed. The stench of alcohol filled the air, and laughter erupted from the kitchen. He quietly slipped into his room, dropping his worn backpack on the floor. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, but the kitchen was off-limits; whatever food there was would already be claimed by his mother’s guests.
He wandered out into the garden, where unripe strawberries grew. Plucking a few, he chewed on them despite their bitterness, just to silence his growling stomach.
“Hungry again, are you?” came a voice from over the fence. It was their elderly neighbor, Baba Nadya.
“Hi,” Vova mumbled, embarrassed.
“Come over here, child,” she said warmly. “I’ve got pancakes with jam and sour cream. You’ll make yourself sick eating those green berries.”
Vova hesitated but eventually accepted her invitation. Sitting at her modest kitchen table, he devoured the pancakes she placed before him.
“That mother of yours,” Baba Nadya muttered angrily as she bustled about. “Drinks away every penny, while you go hungry. It’s a disgrace.”
Vova remained silent, ashamed of his mother’s behavior. When he’d finished, he thanked her sincerely and promised to visit again. She smiled and patted his shoulder. “You’re always welcome, child.”
The following day, Vova’s routine continued. His classmates mocked him, as usual, but he ignored them. After school, he headed to a newly opened car wash, where Baba Nadya had arranged for him to work. The job gave him a glimmer of hope—he could earn some money for prom and maybe even buy a decent suit.
His efforts didn’t go unnoticed. Customers praised his work, and some even tipped him. Despite his hard work, his mother often took the groceries he bought, leaving him disheartened. Baba Nadya, however, stood by him, offering her support and a place to keep his belongings safe.
As graduation approached, Vova managed to save enough for a new suit. On the big day, his classmates were stunned when he arrived in a sleek blue suit, stepping out of an expensive Jeep. Their laughter turned to silence as they realized this wasn’t the same boy they had teased mercilessly.
Vova partnered with Zlata, the only classmate who had ever defended him, for the waltz. They danced beautifully, and by the end of the night, he gathered the courage to confess his feelings for her. To his delight, she felt the same.
At home, a surprise awaited him. The house was spotless, and a warm meal simmered on the stove. His mother, Olga, approached him hesitantly. “Forgive me, son,” she said, her voice trembling. “I want to make things right.”
From that day on, Olga turned her life around. She quit drinking, found a job, and transformed their home into a place of warmth and care. Vova finally experienced the love and support he had longed for.
Years passed, and Vova’s life flourished. With the help of Eduard, a friend of his late father, he secured a good job and completed his education. He married Zlata, and together they built a happy home. They even had a little girl named Sonya, who brought endless joy to their lives.
Baba Nadya remained a cherished part of their family, living with them until her peaceful passing at the age of 92. Her kindness and unwavering support had helped Vova through his darkest days, and he honored her memory by living a life filled with gratitude and love.