Rus Articles Journal

How the house was prepared for Easter? The Childhood I carried out

in a hut. Not in the house, not in the apartment, namely in the hut put from adobe and with a mazany roof. Our hatka consisted of two rooms - big and small, senets and a corridor.

a Half of useful space was occupied by the Russian oven with a stove bench. On other half there were a sofa, a wardrobe, three beds, two tables, the whatnot, the TV on a bedside table, a radio-gramophone and a ficus in a big tub. In the first room in an opposite corner from an entrance - an icon in a bozhnitsa. In senets near a window there was a chest, behind a curtain - stuff, and brood hens were hatching in the spring. The verandah was completely empty, even the shelf for footwear was not.

Before Easter the heating season came to an end, and the father cleaned an oven, shook soot. And mother began to bring order. Took out all “shardyk“ on the street (pillows, feather-beds, mattresses, winter things and t. e), removed from curtain windows, dissolved lime and began to bleach a hatka at first inside, then outside. Whitewashing took the whole day because it was necessary to bleach two times as after winter of a wall were smoked by places, and lime from the first “did not undertake“.

But here everything is pure. Now line for windows. The father cleaned one frame, and mother began to clean off the old, risen puzyryom paint. After mother the father painted windows with slightly bluish paint inside, and outside of saturated blue. When paint dried, they together grated glasses to gloss with newspapers.

- Rub in the lower corner properly, - mother from the room to the father specified and somehow cheerfully and warmly smiled.
- And you have in the middle stains, Ulyanka, - the father from the street shouted and violently rubbed glass. It seemed, once again - and in glass the hole will appear.

While mother with the father grated with newspapers glasses, I carefully rubbed a pure wet rag each leaf of a ficus. The tub stood on a floor, but I had to become on a stool as I did not reach top of this miracle. Some leaves broke, and I blotted a white milk quickly - quickly that mother did not see.

- Mother, everything, - shouted I, having wiped a half of leaves.

- No, not everything, the daughter, - mother answered, - wash a rag and wipe internal leaflets. It seemed to me then that the end - edge to it will never be. But mother was relentless, found and found dusty sheets, and I took a rag in hand again. After me it was once again passed by a pure rag on a ficus, then sprinkled it sugar water, and the room miracle became in svoyugol for a year.

When everything was bleached, painted, washed up, beaten out, cleaned, washed and put into place, our rooms smelled sweet as freshness and purity. There was such pleasure, it is so much positive emotions from the done work, it is so much impressions that these feelings are remembered distinctly still.

Now it is absent though every year before Easter I bring capital order to the house, also I take out things on the street, I erase curtains, I wash blinds, the vacuum cleaner works as mad all day... But I cannot achieve that children`s feeling because windows plastic, stretch ceilings, wall-paper changes time in 10 years, and the laminate is not painted...