On the Wings of Hope : Prose

He reflected for a moment and smiled. How lovely and natural her sister was! She has been living that way even now, living as a child, still capable to take care of her and others. She has been living like that even now, when troubles and misfortunes of their past have been overcome, having left a large hem in a memory. Slowly healing hem.

Have all lessons been learned? Is the meaning of his life’s events been understood? Were answers, given to the questions, asked by life itself, honorable and wise? Questions, asked more than ten years ago … Much has been understood and comprehended, but even more is awaiting him on his road. And he’ll try to analyze results of his selections, comprehend own errors. He’ll make it in the book - his first book. No, in their common book - book of their life. Two brothers and a sister.

His sister called him yesterday by phone. Her voice was, as always, melodious and joyful. A lovely voice of dear person. Yes, she rejoiced her new life. Was indeed happy. She was granted a new role in a remarkable film - a role of a gentle wife and loving mother, the one, which she so perfectly carries out now in her own family. In a family with no insult and hatred ever possible, one without mistrust and self-interest, with a light and air of freedom, gentle aroma of love and mutual aid and assistance, trust, gratitude and kindness - where all that is present as a basis, a core. She’s truly happy in that family of hers - she always spoke so … shared her joy in their meetings.

He’s happy as well, in his new work.

Only his brother doesn’t send news for quite a while. Never mind, he’ll sure will, when return from abroad. He’s now a businessman, influential one and a man of action - largest magnates of a country listen to his opinion. Yet this sort of power hasn’t spoiled him, he - all they - were given a lesson of deprivations for a reason. It made them kinder and wiser, despite the obstacles, in spite of the barriers.

Now each of them implements his own dream. Just as they once dreamed …

Someone will probably say, that it’s a miracle and shed a few tears with a joy in own eyes. Somebody will be wrinkled mistrustfully, having muttered that all this “story” of his own life, embodied in a book, have much in common with a ridiculous fairy tale and silly fictions. Some will thank him for an advice. Some will start applying advices in own life. And he himself will name it - a Trial, a life’s test. A test, symbolizing the beginning of new ones … each and every day.

Is that truly a miracle that after almost five years of wanderings, they at last managed to be arranged in some circus to look after animals, and when some unknown actress left the group, attention of circus managers were suddenly turned to his little sister, to her live and childish spontaneity … to her unspeakable beauty in that spontaneity?

And then there were years - years of hard work. So very different years.

He’s been made a gymnast - along with his natural dexterity he coped perfectly with that role. His brother has been taught to juggle. Their sister began to conduct shows. This was the beginning of their new life’s journey.

Is that really a miracle that his sister soon became an actress - and her charm and sincere beauty have brought her a world’s fame?

Whether that a miracle that his brother, having saved a small fortune, opened a business, which has grown into the largest transnational company?

Whether that a miracle that, wishing with all his heart to seek answers to life questions, to learn himself and to teach others making right choices, - became a writer ?

He won’t name it a miracle, he’ll call it a Sign - a sign of the way. His and their way - a way which they must - have been obliged to - pass to become the ones they have become.

To cope with challenges. To feel no fear of obstacles. To believe in fine dreams, to implement them in one’s life. To become a Man, a man with a capital letter.

To be him.

15.05.2011

Thirtieth day

The thirtieth day …

Yes, the thirtieth day has passed since he has got here. Into his new home. HOME.

The frozen tongue refused to pronounce this painfully familiar and once causing an anxious delight and joy word. How unimaginably new it now sounded in consciousness !

Despair. Despair, dimming the mind.

Tears – what about ? Maybe of those long time gone and irrevocable days of simple man’s happiness ? Of sonorous men's voices and happy children's smiles ? Of a united family, which he was eager to have ?

“Father” … He has, actually, never heard this wonderful sound – and will never hear it now. NEVER. The mind gloatingly hinted, that this is so – it can be no other way. But the heart, the heart, which have suffered so many torments and suffering – his heart refused to believe that. It always refused to trust in pain and grief. Always. Or … until the 30-days old events only ?

And still … nevertheless, it’s his new home for now, no matter how blasphemously this word would now sound.