The grandmother was sitting near the entrance and selling greens, and then I accidentally saw her photo on the wall in the hospital and was shocked 😱😱
At the entrance to our house, a grandmother was selling dill. For several days I saw her there – quiet, hunched over, in a worn jacket and a knitted hat, on an old folding chair. I felt sorry for her. I wanted to help somehow, to somehow soften her everyday life.
To avoid looking like a handout, I decided to just buy some greens.
She sat there almost every day, from early morning. In the summer, with buckets of dill and parsley from the garden. In the winter, from the greenhouse. Her greens were always fragrant, fresh, as if they had just been picked.
At first I bought it just out of sympathy. And then I realized: I really like her. So small, fragile, but with posture, although she is probably almost eighty.
I smiled at her, bought dill. Sometimes we chatted – about the weather, about prices, about neighbors.
Recently I caught a bad cold and went to the hospital, I’m sitting in line, bored, looking at the board with photos. And suddenly – I can’t believe my eyes.
There is a photo of that same granny from our yard hanging on the wall 😱 I was really shocked when I found out the whole truth about this granny.
She is wearing a white coat and a medical cap.
Signature:
“Zinaida Petrovna M., Honored Doctor of the RSFSR. Chief Surgeon of City Clinical Hospital No. 3, 1969–1992.”
I jumped closer. It was definitely her.
The next day I approached her, as usual. A bag of dill and parsley. She nodded affably, as always. I decided to ask her directly.
– Grandma… were you a doctor before?
She froze for a second. Then she smiled, quietly, sadly:
“So you found out, but how?”
— I saw your photo in the hospital. So you were a surgeon?
She was silent for a long time. Then she said:
– Yes. I was. Only now it’s in the past. Everyone has already forgotten. Now I just want simple human communication, do you understand?
I stood silently. A lump in my throat. And she continued:
– When I lost my husband and then my son, my house became empty, life lost its meaning. All I have left is dill and parsley, so at least I don’t feel lonely, I communicate with people.
– Why don’t you want to rest a little?
— Because if I sit at home, I simply won’t be able to stand it.
She smiled.
– And then, I’m not complaining. I have a house and my pension is enough.
