“This means that I am indeed brave and resolute,” thought Bosya,
and carefully sat his sister in an armchair.
Fanyasha was silent for a couple moments until her eyes filled with tears; then she threw herself on the floor and sobbed loudly. She was bitter that she couldn’t reach the door, and ran out of strength in her wings so treacherously fast.
“Hmmm,” mumbled Bosya perplexedly.
Fanyasha cried so loudly and so bitterly that he couldn’t concentrate and figure out what one needs to do with a crying girl.
It did not cross his mind, as it wouldn’t cross the mind of any fourteen-year-old angel-boy, that a crying person needs to be hugged and kissed. Bosya was certain that important and useful knowledge always helps. Narrowing his eyes, he began going over everything he studied at school about tears, but could not pick anything appropriate for this occasion.
“…There are tears of happiness and tears of pain… Tears cleanse… Tears transform… Tears transfigure… They help understand… They help accept…” was whirling in his head. “Ok, maybe this,” he thought, flew up to his sister and blurted out, “Fanya, everything is ok. Tears are necessary and important. Tears signal moving from one state to the next. People have a hard time comprehending this, but angels know this to be true. That is why we need to accept tears with gratitude. There.”
“What?” Fanyasha asked keenly while looking up, and calmed down immediately. She quickly wiped her tears with the hem of her purple dress, and sat across from her brother.
“Who are ‘people’”?
“Uh oh,” mumbled Bosya, and his eyes darted around the room as if he was trying to find something that could get him out of this awkward situation.
“Well, they’re… well, how do you say it… Well, I…I don’t even know what to tell you.”
How could he mess up so badly! From the first grade of elementary school he had had a whole class dedicated to correct information handling. And he remembered how important it was not to disturb the carefree, happy and peaceful ignorance of little angel-preschoolers! And most importantly not to talk about people! What a disaster! What should he do now?
“Bosya! Bosya! Answer! Why are you quiet?” Fanyasha insisted, pulling her brother’s shirt sleeve.
Her brother’s nervous silence ignited her interest more and more.
He knows something interesting! How she dreamed of discovering the answer to at least one of the secrets that surrounded her carefree childhood.
Her parents always flew away to work and were occupied with something very important; Bosya studied at school and learned about new things; she hadn’t seen her grandfather, he had been away on a super secret and super important assignment for a couple years; even her grandmother sometimes disappeared on some important matters. Everyone had their rooms and their secrets and nobody wanted to share!
Fanyasha realized that the world around her was enveloped in mystery. She noticed that her parents, when flying past her room, would often switch to whispering, and when her father helped Borisey with homework, the door to his room was closed shut so that she wouldn’t be able to hear anything.
And so it was finally here, and she wouldn’t miss it for the world! Bosya had said too much and – oh, how lucky she was to have a brother like that – was incapable of lying.
“Answer! Answer now!” she demanded in a whiny tone. “Tell me right now! Tell me everything!”
Bosya froze, shut his lips and just batted his long eyelashes. Then Fanyasha saw that she was not getting anywhere by yelling and decided to change her tactic.
She remembered how softly and lovingly her mother spoke with her father, and how willingly he answered any of her questions. She also remembered how her grandmother whispered to her mother when they were hanging new pearl curtains in Fanyasha’s room, “Men love to be praised, and if the woman does it genuinely and with love, the man will be ready to throw the whole world at her feet!”
“Let’s try!” Fanyasha figured. Especially since she did not need the whole world, she only wanted to find out one little secret.
“Bosechka, my precious brother! You are always so kind and brave! Also, you are such a handsome man! And smart! And curly! Please tell your dear sister, who are ‘people’? ” she twittered.
How fascinating are feminine essence and feminine wisdom. They are passed by word of mouth, by mothers and grandmothers, in a way much better than could be described in books, or explained at school. Interestingly, even a little baby like Fanyasha could remember and apply this experience.
Bosya relaxed a little, came to his senses, pensively scratched his head, then frowned and tried to invent a fairy tale where people were a special type of cloud, or another word for a ray of light, but quickly saw that he wasn’t capable of doing that.
Fanyasha sat closer to her brother and tried to give him an understanding and tender look just like her mother would do.
“Fanya, please understand. I…I shouldn’t tell you about people. You are still small and it’s too early for you to know such things.”
“Such things!” this got into her head and she pleaded, “I am begging you, my dear brother, please, tell me at least a little bit, a tiny bit!”
“So, essentially, people are sort of why we exist,” Bosya gave in.
Fanyasha’s eyes rounded and she was waiting for the continuation of this strange idea with interest.
“So, in other words, there are angels and there are people and we sort of help them. And so that’s how we, angels, live, and people are like us only very different. Do you understand?”
Bosya was pulling on his pants nervously.
“So, essentially, it’s difficult for you right now, but an angel is born, and in roughly ten years a person is born for him, and then the person must be helped. Always. There. That’s it! Don’t ask me anything else! I already spilled the beans! And promise not to say a word to anybody about what I told you. Got it? I need to get to school. Bye.”
With these words, Bosya rushed to leave his sister’s room in order not to say anything more.
“Oh, my,” whispered Fanyasha raising her eyebrows, “How about that!”
She understood that she didn’t understand anything, and that was awfully interesting!
“I definitely need to find out more about these ‘people’! Why do we need to help them?.. And most importantly, why do angels need people?..”
Chapter 4:
These Butterflies Won’t Fly Anymore
Little angels don’t have a concept of time. They do not care about counting minutes, hours, days, and years. They live by taking pleasure in every moment, and this gives them a feeling of being completely dissolved in time and complete happiness.
It is only natural that until you become aware that everything passes, it is hard to imagine counting time, and there is no sense in it. When you know only what you are meant to know, when you don’t need to rush anywhere, when it is not important what was yesterday and what will be tomorrow, and there is not a single doubt that everything will always be ok— that is true childhood!
However, Fanyasha’s sweet, carefree life came to an end the moment she found out about people. It is not that it bothered her. Quite the opposite; forbidden knowledge filled her being with a certain magical trepidation. She felt special, and waited for the opportunity to learn some more.
Now the time dragged unbearably slowly and days spent in her previously beloved room now felt like a long imprisonment.
Bosya hadn’t