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Fates

Truly, through thorns...

    I am accustomed to receive short news from him: postals, letters on one page, written with a today rare calligraphic handwriting. Sometimes in an envelope the poem is enclosed. Here one of recently got.

I remembered today again

Finding a volume turning yellow

How I went with a grandmother

On Sunday in an of prayer house.

I prayed so hot

Fearing spugnut a quiet:

— My God come back to life to me

Although hand one!

And he did not hear me

And he said nothing in reply...

    These hands, weak, as if shown by a cramp, folded to the breast, was me striking at the first meeting with Nick Khmelenock. He was then slightly more tham seventeen years. He just has finished school in the little village Savichi in the environs of Bragin.

    The teachers have told, what costed for Nick, carrying child's cerebral paralysis, teaching at school. Hands obeyed badly, every step came hardly to him. To write he could only standing, clutching a disobedient pen in both hands. And so — all ten school years. Has finished secondary school by one of the best in a class.

    But not only the rare courage has struck me in the rural teenager. His pictures, skilness, half-childish, have stunned me with the color and light. A boy liked to draw a native house, birch near the wicket-gate, rural street escaping in the field. All it was inundated by a bright sunlight. It seemed, the walls at a home on his leaves made of logs radiated a heat. What light lived in the soul of this boy which dews without a mother, only with a father and grandmother! I wanted to understand what was the source of this joyfull sight (look) on the world. Kindness of people his surrounding? (In the country all knew and spared Nick). Selfless love of father, simple state farm carpenter living in eternal willingness to come to the son for help?

    Or ignorance, unguessed of the fate?

    If he knew what he will have...

    At that time in the house of Nick Khmelenock I was led by his letter in the edition (release) of "Soviet Byelorussia". In him he asked (sued) for (about) help. More precisely — about justice. To Nick callously belonged in the Minsk institute of foreign languages, where Khmelenock has sent documents about the receipt on the extra-mural separation of German (he was carried to them away as in a seventh class, gained victories on district olympiads).

    I wrote an essay about Nick Khmelenock "Overcoming". Disturbed by his fate, the readers answered in hundred letters. After that the high school has corrected its mistake, and Nick became a student. Five years he twice in a year arrived to Minsk on winter and spring sessions. And always with him alongside there was a father, whose help a son could not treat without. Nick finished high school with a red diploma.

    Another victory above the illnes, above the fate.

    At school which he finished, to him were afraid to give lessons. "What is a teacher which is not able to hold a chalk in his hand?!"

    The newspaper interfered again, helped.

    But the main was in it. How enter a class and seen ten inquisitive, mischievous, curious child's eyes? How to compel them to listen itself? To carry away by beauties of another’s language? In one of letters he will write to me: “It is sometimes sick to see how the children pityingly look at me, helping me. Then I try to smile, as though heavily was on soul. I not so like, when me pity".

    Later I will be had to visit on the lessons of Nick Khmelenock. And again he will stagger me now already by pedagogical trade, by the complete hold of the class. How experimental diriger is, a teacher is able to retain attention of children by both no the loan thought or bright immage, or by a joke, and main — by the trust and respect for the schoolboys.

    Another height in his fate is taken.

    But ahead waited new, perchance, the heaviest test — infernal flame of Chernobil. It blazed in three tens kilometres from Savichi. And there was no defence from him. Who could, departed, left. And if the legs go hardly?..

    The whole summer Nick Khmelenock was lived in the country, knowing and understanding all. Dosimetria passionless counted off the increasing quantity of millirentgens, absorbed by the people of the infected zone. Nick will name this number in his letter. Will write about it without fear, without anger. And as a verdict to itself, will finish the letter with words: “I will be together with all, I will become a witness of all events".

    Only by the end of September Khmelenock will be found a place at other school. In little country Nedoika of the Buda-Koshelyovo district, richly marked by the same radio-active "spots".

    Here the young teacher "from a zone area"  was adopted well. A spacious house was given. But here an ominous radiation went after this family. Told (has had an effect), it is visible, that they lived a whole summer under a side at the enraged atomic reactor. Grandmother took ill, she was buried soon. About itself the Nick will write from Nedoika: "My health quite got unstuck. All winter was pursued by continuous colds. Heaart and nerves began to give out".

         Before father had time to scramble out after a heart attack, as soon — a new misfortune: hemorrhage in a brain. Main support of Nick have break and fallen to the ground. Two invalids, two helpless men remained one in the deserted house. They had relatives in Svetlogorsk. Nick wanted tomove there. He wrote in different instances, up to Supreme Soviet of the republic, asked to apportion habitation there. Said no. It is not done. “You have already once get help".

    Letters from Nick Khmelenock have ceased to come. Then, after some months, came a postal from Gorodnia, little small town in Chernigiv region. The married sister of Nick lives there. Somewhere near to her settled he with a sick father.

    If a fate beats and beats a man, if the way of him turns out is stony and steep, how to save heartfelt firmness, how not to inquire at the fate of mercy? With an alarm I waited a next letter from Nick. Will forces be enough at him to overcome this test? It was enough! Got the message almost exulting (elated): “I hurry to inform to you, that I was taken on job (work) in House of pioneers and schoolboys. There am I again among children!.. And people are here benevolent".

    Once a rural boy-cripple asked from God to bring back to life him even one hand. The Lord did not heed prayers of child. But he breathed in his soul rare firmness, force and patience.

    … I am accustomed to receive from Nickolai Khmelenock short news. I wait them. I must simply to know that this man lives on earth.

Dina MANAEVA

Minsk