The next day I had joy again - Ksenia, the director's secretary, called the pediatrician to see me with two of my children, without waiting in line, as the director Anton Pavlovich Babak himself asked for this. All doctors bowed before Babak, because he always signed food invoices through Fomich's warehouse, issued at the state price to strangers - doctors, lawyers, a judge, a prosecutor, etc.
So the pediatrician was already waiting for me. Unwittingly, I already turned out to be the object of attention, although in my soul I hated these pulls, sycophancy, and dependence on anyone. At the same time, it was nice that someone cares about you absolutely for nothing, but out of respect and sympathy.
The pediatrician did not fail to ask with a smile on her face: "Well, Galina Aleksandrovana, is there any more honey in Fomich's warehouse?" "There must be, the other day I saw invoices for the issuance of honey to state farm workers, Anton Pavlovich signed it." - I tried to please her. And not in vain. She herself took me with the girls to the doctors' offices. Everyone signed that my little daughters Toma and Gulya are healthy and can attend kindergarten #2 in collective farm Petrovskoye. The nursery building was urban, they simply built it on the territory of the state farm.
What happiness! Now my little ones will not jump out of the window, they will not get hurt, my mother and their grandmother will work quietly, and I will see them in the garden courtyard from the window of our room when I come home from the state farm office for lunch. Now a bright streak has come into our lives, but, unfortunately, not for long.
A month and a half later, on March 10, 1962, after disagreeing with A.P. Babak, a director, and quitting, I got a job as an accountant in the same kindergarten Gulya and Toma attended. Here I worked until September 1963 as a member of a friendly team. Not a single trouble, not a single quarrel, soul to soul, like one good family. Permanent staff: a manager, a nurse, a storeroom manager, she is also a sister-mistress (housekeeper), two educators, two nannies, a laundress, a cook, and I as an accountant. There were ten of us in total. All matters were discussed in the kitchen during dinner.
We did not rob the children. The norm of food for a child was so sufficient that there was always a lot of food left in the kitchen after distribution, and not all workers always had lunch in a manger. One teacher and one nanny had lunch and rested at home during the break, the laundress ran home, and her family was waiting for dinner. There was also a cleaning lady, Domnina Anna, who hurried home to her husband and children. And we were sitting at the kitchen table, four or five people who, according to our positions, had to taste the food.
At that job, at my request, I was placed to work in the kitchen area. My desktop was placed by the window so that it would be brighter to write. It was warm there and well-lit for me, and the window overlooked the courtyard of the kindergarten. Also, Nadia, the cook, had more fun not being alone in the kitchen. Nadia's boyfriend was serving in the army then, and her thoughts were occupied with her beloved. Sometimes she asked me: "Galina Alexandrovna, I'll take you away from work for a minute, is it okay? It seems to be salty, but I just can't figure out the taste, please try it."
I tried: "Add a little salt, it will be just right. And why do you forget the norm of salt for cereals? Do you want me to remind you? Buckwheat - 20 grams of salt, per 1 kg.; millet - 25 grams, per 1 kg.; rice - 28 grams, per 1 kg.; liquid semolina - 55 grams." Nadya explained that she remembered this, but she hadn’t always been able to do it correctly lately ... "Ah, you are thinking about your sweetheart, it’s understandable, but yesterday you just read a letter from him. His service is going well, what else do you need?" - I laughed. -"I miss him, day and night I think about him." –"Well, you don't have to be sad. I will come up with a song and when the children go outside to play, we will sing it together. Okay?"
I remember how I was composing the song, and Nadya peeped from behind and burst into laughter. I don’t remember the whole song, but these words are not forgotten:
Nadia thinks of her sweetheart,
He's far away, doing man's part,
And just like Nadya, every morning
He's eating yummy macaroni.
Chorus:
Oh macaroni, macaroni, macaroni made by me-e-e,
For what reason, macaroni overcooked you'd be-e-e?
That's how Nadia and I had fun - she was 18 years old, and I was 33 years old.