When I was ten

   
I spent my childhood in Siberia, in a small village that was situated high in the mountains. The climate was harsh with fierce frosts in winter and a short hot summer and a constant lack of oxygen. I was always afraid of our townspeople with their unsmiling faces that were looking like walking stone statues.

In spring everything changed. Nature blossomed to bring in bright colors and under the thawing snows there timidly appeared magical blue snowdrops. The crystal air and the noise of melting snow from the mountains transformed into many small streams and creeks.

In the spring we did not have enough different foods, but instead we chewed a special gum which gave us minerals and protected our teeth from cavities.

This was a special natural gum called sulphur. We picked it from the high trees or from pine logs in the garden. It was very hard to find these small buff nuggets like gold and transparent like tears.

The taste of the sulphur was very different. At first it was bitter and hard and then it became softer and sweeter like lollies.

"Stop chewing! Spit that stuff out of your mouth!” our strict teachers shouted at the class, “you are chewing like cows!”

But we never listen to our mentors.

We would chew this sulphur where ever we could and after chewing , blew purple bubbles . Now I think that maybe this is why my first visit to the dentist happened when I was 33 year old.

Morning. There was a wide warm Russian stove and I was lying sprawled on it. Today I was lucky. My cat sleeps next to me, not on my neck, so I would not suffocate.

Somewhere below I can hear adults. I am cozy, warm and I don’t want to get up. I often sleep a long time, sometimes until 11am.

But I hear the sound of cutlery and some talking and my sensitive nose feels the magical smells of fried potatoes with bacon, fresh milk and fresh-baked bread.

My comfortable stove-bed leisurely is talking to itself buzzing and absorbing birch logs.

I loved this morning quiet time, when everyone was still at home . My mum, a still sober father and we, the children.

"Get up, my dear, it is time for breakfast," I hear mum’s voice. "We have had our breakfast, but you are still sleeping."

But I did not sleep at all, I was flying. I flew into my fantasy worlds, sometimes pushing off with my feet from the ground and flying up like a rocket , like an arrow.

I'm flying and the wind blows my fluffy blond hair and flows over my body like a stream .

"AAAAAAh," I am shouting, suffocating with happiness and elation. I am not here and I am not there and I am nowhere. I am only energy and light shooting into space.

I desperately do not want to go back , but an unknown someone tugged strongly at my feet and brings me back to reality and wow … to my breakfast.

I sit and have breakfast at the table like it is the first and maybe the last time. The food is so tasty. I love all my relatives and I firmly believe that they love me too . I am absolutely and endlessly happy that I am here. I feel myself like a Goddess in my small universe.

Our village had a miracle which was called a radio. It was a big black plate on a wooden pole. The radio taught us to live correctly. It read to us the news from around the world and told us that our country, the USSR, is the strongest and the best country, and our Stalin is the best man in the world.

When our father Stalin passed away, all the village sobbed and cried very much.

The radio also gave us cheerful music and folk songs, but every day a very strict male voice made us do morning exercises, right on the snow, outside, in the cold weather … brr…. so cold .

We did not like to do exercises, it was very boring. We only liked to play. Every free time I wanted to run away from my house, to hide from our tiresome parents and play with my friends.

A simple doll made by my mum was in my imagination turned into a modern and elegant Barbie doll with all her accessories. Coloured glass from broken bottles was transformed into a magical kaleidoscope in which we saw the beautiful changing patterns.

"Gala, catch up to me ," I screamed loudly and pushed my friend .
"You can not catch me !" I teased her again, quickly escaping from her along the black thawed-out ground.

We enjoyed playing games with each other, pushing each other like little imps, jumping and shouting.

The spring and the warm weather meant the end of an annoying winter. We are screaming and hugging each other. We did not know what to do with our backlog of energy from winter.

"Ha, ha, ha," we laughed cheerfully.
"Ha, ha, ha," and so we continued laughing all the day.
"Why are all the adults so serious? Why don’t they ever laugh ? Everything is so funny," we thought.

I was always laughing, when I was happy and when I was not happy, it did not matter, I laughed. My mouth was stretched from ear to ear.

"Luda, stop laughing," my dear mother said to me and sometimes to my sister.

"It is not good luck to laugh so much," my parents repeated it constantly. But I was just a small, happy, little girl who did not notice other things around me. I lived only in my own juvenile world.

Now I think that childhood is a special time when you are free and can enjoy every day that you have lived.

You do not have to worry about your own future or about forecasts for your lifetime.

You're here and now and you are immensely happy.