My Heart

AuthorHouse

Contents

Introduction...............................ixChapter 1: Morning.........................1Chapter 2: Hurricane.......................15Chapter 3: Green Bud.......................31Chapter 4: Krokus..........................107Chapter 5: Firebird........................181Chapter 6: Immortality.....................257

Chapter One

They say that a child is like wax: while he is young you can form him into any shape. I was a very calm, obedient and gentle child, but I would not allow anyone to shape me into something I wasn't.

I do not want to touch on some tragic events that befell me in the very early years of my life. Let us let it go for now.

Until I was seven years old I lived in a small, provincial town with my grandfather and grandmother. They were religious people, but I did not become religious myself. Despite my atheism I was always a little bit fatalistic. This was not a belief in the inevitability or the inescapable nature of our Fate, on the contrary, I believed that one should not be led like a lamb to the slaughter, but must fight for one's own happiness. So what is the nature of this slight fatalism?

This is where we run into the question of the fortunate and unfortunate. Who would deny that there are the lucky and the unlucky? There are people who are constantly tripped up by Fate. I'm not talking about the clumsy and woolgatherers, but sometimes a person is both smart and full of energy, but simply has no luck. This is not mere supposition but a fact, and we all know people about whom it is said: "Once unlucky, always unlucky."

In contrast to these unlucky souls, there are those who are always lucky. Whatever storms and squalls may come to them they are always carried safely to shore. Whatever seeming difficulties may fall into the path of these lucky men, it always falls to their advantage. It is said that "even the Devil aids the lucky man." This doesn't mean that lucky men don't have their own obstacles in life. There's plenty of trouble to go around, but in a decisive life eventually Fortune will always smile on him. And I should know; I am one of the lucky ones.

The years passed by and the child became a teenager and the teenager a young man. Oh, this springtime of human life, when the very young have a very vivid experience of everything. The young are especially sensitive and vulnerable! This is the time of great plans, when a worldview comes into being, when every person often and deeply thinks long and hard about the meaning of life in general and about his life in particular. This is the time when everyone's heart is overflowing with love and waits impatiently and with longing for a requited love like a field under the hot, baking rays of the sun waits for a life-giving and blessed rain.

We have all lived through this time and have expectantly waited for this fantastic and ineffable wonder, that is called – Love. And every youth dreams that She, the woman he comes to love, will be the most beautiful and kind, and the most gentle and alluring maiden in the world. But how do you find Her; where does one look for Her? How do you recognize Her? No one knows. How does one recognize that she really is She — the one and only and unlike anyone else? You can look for her all your life and never find her. You can walk right past her and never even know that you just walked by your Destiny, walked by, didn't recognize Her, and now you will never see her again and never meet her again. Life is the greatest miracle of Nature and Love is the greatest miracle of Life.

When I was close to 17 years old, here's what happened.

From the school I was attending they were transferring several classes to another school. Starting September 1 our ninth grade was wholly moved to a school on Eight Suvorovsky Street in Leningrad. My friend Syoma Krumer and I did not want to go to the new school. We didn't have any special reasons for not wanting to go. We just didn't want to leave the school we had been going to for eight years. We were just stubborn. And the school administration also became stubborn, "If you don't want to be transferred with your class, take your school records and go wherever you feel like going."

We took our school records and went to a school on Lermontovskaya Street.

I really liked my new class. These were good and friendly kids. Not one was lazy, a hooligan, snobbish, condescending, or stuck-up. The guys were good, the girls were nice and the relationships between them were kind. The teachers were good too. My favorite subjects were literature and history. The history teacher was pleasant, but didn't leave much of an impression on me. But the literature teacher got my attention right away.

She was ... over 25 years old. Back then I wasn't that good at judging someone's age. I remember that I was especially impressed that she did not wear make-up. "Made up" women were always hiding something, I thought, and I never fully trusted them. I really liked her intelligent eyes and her heartfelt relationships with her students. She led her lessons in a very engaging way; her great enthusiasm created great enthusiasm in her students. She was very genuine and charming which was very attractive right away. Later, I would often go back to that time and remember in particular the way my literature teacher was dressed. She dressed modestly yet elegantly: a pretty blouse; a dark skirt; black silk stockings; patent leather pumps; and a beautiful necklace on her neck. She would wear neither earrings nor rings. Looking at this elegant and graceful woman, dazzling in her extraordinary charm, I suddenly wondered: would I want her to be my wife?

And I answered my own question: No!

Strange, isn't it? Why did I think about this? I was going to be 17 soon, but I thought about women only in a platonic way. "Would I want her to be my wife?"

And sternly: "No!"

Why did I answer "no!"? I explained it right away to myself. She was much older than I was. As it turned out later, She was 30, and I was not yet 17. Of course it was not love at first sight. Love at first sight is an explosion; but when you begin to measure out the years, that is not love. And so there was no love, but there was an ever-growing fondness for Anna Nicholaevna Svetlova.

Everything, even starting with her name, was beautiful to me. Anna Nicholaevna Svetlova, what could this mean? I began to investigate.

Interesting Science Press had recently published a book called "What Your Name Means." I read in this book that "Anna" means "grace" and "mercy" (Hebrew): "Nicholai" is the "conqueror of the people", "conqueror of many" (Ancient Greek). Her last name "Svetlova" means "light" in Russian. Now I could say with certainty that her whole name held something extraordinary and unique: Merciful Grace that Conquers All with the Light. If this marvelous woman conquers many with her light blessing, then how could I alone remain unconquered?

Anna Nicholaevna was more and more attractive to me. The days when we had our literature lessons were real celebrations for me. I didn't take my eyes off of her and listened to her with great joy. I imagined that she was teaching class for me alone, and I was so immersed in what she was saying that I felt that she and I were the only two people in the world. Soon Anna Nicholaevna organized a literary club and I was the first to join it. At the first meeting of the club, Anna...