Dolls and butterflies

Pupae and butterflies

Alexander Gusev-Lvov

Tashkent, 1964, spring, I am 3.5 years old.

In the evening grandpa Peter got ready and then left for exploration in the mountain steppe - foothills Bobotie, which means "grandfather mountain". The mountains are beautiful, with a height of 3555 meters. They went on a decommissioned military UAZ, with partners in the apiary, in search of a place for the spring migration of bees in the Angren mountains. Before leaving, he kissed me and gently whispered that he would return early in the morning to bring me a surprise.

I Wake up, the window is dark, my grandfather kisses me and puts a chair next to my bed, on which he puts a paper. Mysteriously, he unbuttons his coat... Very carefully and carefully puts a small bundle out of the inner pocket, unfolding it and I feel the fresh smell of mountain herbs, see the stems to which the butterfly pupae are attached...
Then he says quietly to me:
- These are pupae that will soon produce colorful butterflies. You sleep, Sashulya, and later in the morning, when it starts to dawn, you will Wake up. You will get an incredible surprise: the butterflies will fly out and, as if in a fairy tale, will spin around the room.

Kiss me. There were magic dolls on the paper. I fell fast asleep.

I awoke to the fact that my grandfather entered the room, pushed back the heavy curtains with a special wooden stick with copper tips, and through the gap between them a stream of bright, cheerful sunlight burst into the room...

After a few minutes, the room was already flying magic beautiful butterflies and they became more and more...I stood transfixed, fascinated by the incredible beauty of the flying butterflies.

And on a table with a snow-white tablecloth stood a glass with a Melchior handle, filled with tea. Next to me on a saucer lay a large Yangiyul gingerbread that my grandfather had brought for me from his business trip.

Many years have passed and there is no longer any Tashkent house or grandfather, but forever in my memory is a fresh spring morning in Tashkent, such a young grandfather and colorful bright butterflies fluttering in my room...



The author thanks the drawing artist (Collection) - Butterfly-Painting-Multicolour-H80cm.W80cm-768x768