I, for example, really love the “Letter to the Mother” by SA Esenin. This image in his work is inextricably linked with the image of a village house with blue shutters, birches at the outskirts, the road that goes into the distance. The poet says:
I’m still the same gentle
And I dream only of that,
So as soon as possible from the longing of a rebellious
Go back to our low house.
The very nature of the mother laid the desire to take care of their children, protect them from life’s misfortunes, troubles. However, this has its reverse side. Let us recall Oblomov, who thanks to the excessive care of his mother became a weak-willed, unemotional, lazy person.
Every mother wants happiness and goodness for her child, and, it seems, there is nothing more terrible in the world when mothers are experiencing their children. And how many young lives they have carried away and continue to carry out wars! And there are no words that
could explain the mother why her child was killed.
In Bogomolov’s story “My Heart’s Pain” the guys who returned from the war avoid looking into the eyes of the mother of their classmate who died at the front, reading a mute reproach and piercing sorrow.
In the book of V. Astafiev “Zatei” there is a short essay “Yesenin sing”. With pain, the author writes about how the lonely old women live in remote villages, all forgotten. They are going to one house in winter, so it’s easier to pass the winter together. They have neither mail nor TV. Bread – and that is rarely brought. Only for the summer come to them children and grandchildren from the city. They bring them a grid with orange oranges and bright “overseas” rejuvenation, which is already out of fashion in the city. So these women live from summer to summer, hoping for the next meeting with children and grandchildren.
The mother’s heart can endlessly wait and forgive. In the story “Telegram” K. Paustovsky very touchingly writes about the fate of the old woman Katerina
Petrovna. She lives alone, her senile life is brightened up only by memories of her daughter, whom she has not seen for three years. No, the daughter remembers her mother, sends money transfers to her, which are always accompanied by the same words: “It’s all right, I have not much time to write.” The old woman tries not to bother her with her letters, realizing that she has her own life, her own problems. And Nastya’s rare mother letters cause, on the one hand, relief, and on the other – anxiety. Occupied Nastya in the city is important, in her opinion, a matter. All the forces give the device to the exhibition of a lonely elderly sculptor, who needs her care. The people around her praise her for her spiritual concern, kindness, worry about a person. And only Gogol, the last work of the sculptor, looks at Nastya with reproach, as if only he knows her secret. And in the village, in order to calm the dying Katerina Petrovna, to mitigate somehow her sufferings, fellow villagers on behalf of their daughter compose a telegram, not realizing that the mother’s heart can not be deceived. On the day of Katerina Petrovna’s funeral, only neighbors who were neighbors gathered at the grave. And the young teacher, whose mother also lives far away, in the city, kisses Katerina Petrovna’s hand, a woman she does not know, on behalf of all the children, as if asking her forgiveness. Nastia was late for the funeral and left the village secretly, stealthily, afraid to meet someone from her fellow villagers. She understood that no one could remove the stone from her soul. And in the village, in order to calm the dying Katerina Petrovna, to mitigate somehow her sufferings, fellow villagers on behalf of their daughter compose a telegram, not realizing that the mother’s heart can not be deceived. On the day of Katerina Petrovna’s funeral, only neighbors who were neighbors gathered at the grave. And the young teacher, whose mother also lives far away, in the city, kisses Katerina Petrovna’s hand, a woman she does not know, on behalf of all the children, as if asking her forgiveness. Nastia was late for the funeral and left the village secretly, stealthily, afraid to meet someone from her fellow villagers. She understood that no one could remove the stone from her soul. And in the village, in order to calm the dying Katerina Petrovna, to mitigate somehow her sufferings, fellow villagers on behalf of their daughter compose a telegram, not realizing that the mother’s heart can not be deceived. On the day of Katerina Petrovna’s funeral, only neighbors who were neighbors gathered at the grave. And the young teacher, whose mother also lives far away, in the city, kisses Katerina Petrovna’s hand, a woman she does not know, on behalf of all the children, as if asking her forgiveness. Nastia was late for the funeral and left the village secretly, stealthily, afraid to meet someone from her fellow villagers. She understood that no one could remove the stone from her soul. On the day of Katerina Petrovna’s funeral, only neighbors who were neighbors gathered at the grave. And the young teacher, whose mother also lives far away, in the city, kisses Katerina Petrovna’s hand, a woman she does not know, on behalf of all the children, as if asking her forgiveness. Nastia was late for the funeral and left the village secretly, stealthily, afraid to meet someone from her fellow villagers. She understood that no one could remove the stone from her soul. On the day of Katerina Petrovna’s funeral, only neighbors who were neighbors gathered at the grave. And the young teacher, whose mother also lives far away, in the city, kisses Katerina Petrovna’s hand, a woman she does not know, on behalf of all the children, as if asking her forgiveness. Nastia was late for the funeral and left the village secretly, stealthily, afraid to meet someone from her fellow villagers. She understood that no one could remove the stone from her soul.
The story of V. Rasputin’s “Woman’s Conversation” is interesting and instructive. A fifteen-year-old granddaughter tries to prove to her grandmother that the family, the children heavily burden the woman, interfere with her career, and in general interfere with interesting living. With this can not agree grandmother, in the difficult years of the war, raising children and drawing in them only the power to live.
