Read Online The Secret Holocaust Diaries: The Untold Story of Nonna Bannister by Nonna Bannister, Denise George, Carolyn Tomlin - Free Book Online Page B
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into a small room—a pantry (perhaps six by nine feet or so). There was very little light coming through the small window, which was way up high, and there was a door leading to the cellar, secured with a hook. Inside the pantry were many shelves stocked with all kinds of jars. There were also several barrels filled with flour, sugar, rice, etc.
There was a jar of Grandmother’s homemade raspberry preserves (which became my favorite preserves), and nearby was a ceramic pitcher filled with heavy breakfast cream. Both of them had been left open—like a trap that was set with the purpose of catching someone! Aljoscha spotted them before I did and started whining, “I want some; I want some!” Trying to keep him quiet, I stuck my finger into the preserves, and then into the cream, and let him lick my finger. By then, my own desire took over, and once again, I stuck my finger into the preserves and then the cream. It tasted heavenly.
Just as we were enjoying our “breakfast,” I looked up, and there in the corner—yes, in the pantry—was an icon. Jesus was looking straight at me, as though He was saying, “I saw that!” I knew that I had committed one of the worst “sins”—which was to get into something without someone’s permission. I had to think quickly. There, near the bottom of the shelf, was a stool. Dipping my finger back into the preserves and into the cream, I stood on the stool; and barely reaching the icon, I smeared Jesus’ lips with it. Now that He had some, surely He would “forgive me.”
About that time, I heard Grandmother’s voice. No doubt, she had been up for hours and was coming in from outside. I grabbed Aljoscha’s hand and got out of the pantry just in time. When she saw us in the kitchen, she hugged us, and that made me forget about the naughty thing that I had done.
----
JAM ON THE ICON • Nonna told this story to her children because it was a happy remembrance. It proved to be one of their favorite stories.
----
The rest of the day was a very busy one for all the grown-ups. There was a lot of baking, cooking, and getting ready for the Christmas celebration. The house was filled with a magnificent aroma.
Sitting on the windowsill, I was amazed at what I saw. There was a pond near the house, and it was iced over solidly. Two boys were ice-skating on it. There was a road alongside the pond, and now and then you would see a horse or two pulling a sleigh loaded with wood or whatever. It was a kind of quietness and peacefulness that I was not accustomed to, coming from the big city of Rostov. It was quite a change. There were no streetcar noises and not many people to see.
The birch trees (so tall that you had to look way up to see the tops) were lined up all along the side of Grandmother’s house, and they stood there so proudly even though they were bare and covered with snow. Grandmother was talking quite often of the time when Grandfather had planted them. There were fourteen of them when they were planted. It was a gift from Grandfather to Grandmother on her birthday, and those trees kept growing taller with each year, with only one lost, struck by lightning.
13: Our Fun Time Begins
While the grown-ups were busy with the work of preparing for Christmas, we children were playing with our dolls, and the time seemed to slip by. Later in the afternoon, we had one more surprise coming—we heard Babushka calling, “Petrovich, get the horses and sleigh out! We are going for a sleigh ride!”
Grandmother herself was probably just as excited about the sleigh ride as we children were—if not more so. It was something that she had been looking forward to all year long. Petrovich enjoyed taking us for the sleigh ride more than anything else that he had to do. He had been doing this for as long as he had been with the family, and it was his favorite job in the wintertime.
While we were being dressed in our warmest clothes (caps with earflaps, scarves, mittens, etc.), Uncle Zhenya
There was a jar of Grandmother’s homemade raspberry preserves (which became my favorite preserves), and nearby was a ceramic pitcher filled with heavy breakfast cream. Both of them had been left open—like a trap that was set with the purpose of catching someone! Aljoscha spotted them before I did and started whining, “I want some; I want some!” Trying to keep him quiet, I stuck my finger into the preserves, and then into the cream, and let him lick my finger. By then, my own desire took over, and once again, I stuck my finger into the preserves and then the cream. It tasted heavenly.
Just as we were enjoying our “breakfast,” I looked up, and there in the corner—yes, in the pantry—was an icon. Jesus was looking straight at me, as though He was saying, “I saw that!” I knew that I had committed one of the worst “sins”—which was to get into something without someone’s permission. I had to think quickly. There, near the bottom of the shelf, was a stool. Dipping my finger back into the preserves and into the cream, I stood on the stool; and barely reaching the icon, I smeared Jesus’ lips with it. Now that He had some, surely He would “forgive me.”
About that time, I heard Grandmother’s voice. No doubt, she had been up for hours and was coming in from outside. I grabbed Aljoscha’s hand and got out of the pantry just in time. When she saw us in the kitchen, she hugged us, and that made me forget about the naughty thing that I had done.
----
JAM ON THE ICON • Nonna told this story to her children because it was a happy remembrance. It proved to be one of their favorite stories.
----
The rest of the day was a very busy one for all the grown-ups. There was a lot of baking, cooking, and getting ready for the Christmas celebration. The house was filled with a magnificent aroma.
Sitting on the windowsill, I was amazed at what I saw. There was a pond near the house, and it was iced over solidly. Two boys were ice-skating on it. There was a road alongside the pond, and now and then you would see a horse or two pulling a sleigh loaded with wood or whatever. It was a kind of quietness and peacefulness that I was not accustomed to, coming from the big city of Rostov. It was quite a change. There were no streetcar noises and not many people to see.
The birch trees (so tall that you had to look way up to see the tops) were lined up all along the side of Grandmother’s house, and they stood there so proudly even though they were bare and covered with snow. Grandmother was talking quite often of the time when Grandfather had planted them. There were fourteen of them when they were planted. It was a gift from Grandfather to Grandmother on her birthday, and those trees kept growing taller with each year, with only one lost, struck by lightning.
13: Our Fun Time Begins
While the grown-ups were busy with the work of preparing for Christmas, we children were playing with our dolls, and the time seemed to slip by. Later in the afternoon, we had one more surprise coming—we heard Babushka calling, “Petrovich, get the horses and sleigh out! We are going for a sleigh ride!”
Grandmother herself was probably just as excited about the sleigh ride as we children were—if not more so. It was something that she had been looking forward to all year long. Petrovich enjoyed taking us for the sleigh ride more than anything else that he had to do. He had been doing this for as long as he had been with the family, and it was his favorite job in the wintertime.
While we were being dressed in our warmest clothes (caps with earflaps, scarves, mittens, etc.), Uncle Zhenya
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