Olga remembered well what poverty was. Her father had left the family when she was seven years old. Later, she often wondered what had caused his departure. Perhaps it was because her mother had been his “youthful mistake.”
They had met when they were seventeen—summer, beaches, endless hikes… And in the fall it turned out that Tamara was pregnant. Victor was shocked, as if he had no idea how things might end. But both sets of parents proved insistent, and by November the wedding had taken place.
After finishing school, Tamara gave up her studies—she needed to raise the little one. Victor, on the other hand, turned out to be a man without ambitions. He took his father’s old “eight” and began working as a taxi driver, preferring night shifts.
“Better to earn money than to sit at home listening to the screams of your ‘spine-muncher’,” he would say to his wife.
There was barely enough money for sustenance, but the housing problem still had to be solved. Then Tamara found work as a janitor and was allotted a small, government-subsidized apartment. Working in the fresh air was supposed to be beneficial, yet her body betrayed her. Perhaps it was the early pregnancy or the constant stress, but she increasingly felt weak, had trouble breathing, and her heart would skip a beat. If only she had the means to see private doctors and buy expensive medication, things might have changed. But at the polyclinic, they only provided cheap drugs for blood pressure and the heart. Tamara had neither the strength nor the opportunity to take care of her own health.
It was probably then that Victor decided to leave. He found an older woman from a well-off circle and soon moved with her to Moscow, hoping to find a better life there.
Meanwhile, Tamara continued to fight. She chipped ice off the sidewalks, spread sand over the roads, and then would come home and lie down immediately. She simply didn’t have the strength to search for her ex-husband or fight for alimony.
Little Olga learned to take care of herself at an early age. She prepared simple meals, kept their modest home clean, and washed her own clothes. If her mother had felt better, she might have found an extra source of income. But the illness had dragged her into a deep abyss from which there seemed no escape.
Her school years became a real trial for Olga. The girl was bright and hardworking. Mathematics, which is usually difficult for most students, came easily to her—she earned nothing but top marks. She always helped those who asked to copy from her and was known for her good sense of humor. It was pleasant to talk to her.
Yet in class, there were those who quickly took a disliking to her. Her clothes attracted ridicule—especially her patched tights. Classmates were curious about which grandmother’s market her boots had come from. Perhaps some old lady had pitied the “ragamuffin” and given her what could be called “farewell, youth.”
The situation only worsened after each test. Olga always received the highest grades, and her essays were read aloud by the teacher. Meanwhile, those who mocked her sometimes even struggled to earn a passing grade.
One day, one of the mockers loudly declared:
“
I know why Kuznetsova works so hard. She wants to lure some guy to support her. Otherwise, who needs such a poor thing? Like her mother, she’ll end up alone.
”
These words were heard by the class teacher. She reprimanded the offender and comforted the tearful Olga. Tatiana Vasilievna did everything she could: she secured free meals for the girl and petitioned to have the family exempted from mandatory class fees. But many parents didn’t understand this kind of help.
“Why should we pay for someone else’s child?” they protested, driving their children to school in expensive cars.
Olga’s situation deteriorated further due to one incident. Tamara Igorevna had discovered a “super dump”—a place where new residents of Stalin-era housing discarded the belongings of previous owners. One could find almost new items there: carpets, furniture, bookshelves. One day, when her mother asked Olga to help carry a small table to their apartment, a classmate noticed it. After that, the girl was called nothing but a “dumpster.”
The situation reached its apex when the girl sitting at the next desk demonstratively gathered her things and said:
“
May I change seats? She smells of garbage; it makes me feel sick.
”
Before the teacher could answer, Sveta moved over to her friend.
Then something unexpected happened. Oleg Timofeev, a guy popular among the girls, stood up and said:
“
On the contrary, I like the back row.
”
And he moved next to Olga. She recoiled, thinking it was yet another mockery.
“Timofeev, put on a gas mask,” Sveta snapped.
“When I’m next to you, I surely will. Your perfume is just too strong,” Oleg shot back.
The class burst into laughter, and Olga buried herself in solving a problem, trying to ignore her new desk neighbor. It was excruciating for her—she had liked Oleg for a long time, yet had never dared to even dream of him. Now he was sitting right beside her, and she felt even more awkward. Her tattered bag and the old sweater she’d outgrown seemed like even more glaring shortcomings. She had told no one about her family problems, fearing further ridicule.
For several days, Oleg tried to talk to Olga during breaks, but she avoided him at every turn. However, now she began to pay more attention to her appearance. Cleaning the building’s entrance allowed her to earn a little money, and she managed to buy a few new things.
Yet the fear of new humiliation never left her. She was convinced that Oleg was just waiting for the moment to laugh at her.
So, when she found a note in her diary offering a friendship, her reaction was even unexpected to herself.
“You probably need protection? You do well in your studies, yet you still cling on! Just like in a bad movie about a prince and a pauper,” she snapped.
“Rather, it’s a story about a cursed princess,” Oleg replied quietly. “As if someone had enchanted you, making you unable to believe that you are truly beautiful.”
Olga froze, blinking in astonishment. For the first time, she thought about the fact that she would soon finish school. If she didn’t repeat her mother’s mistake and drop out, her life could change. She could get an education, find a good job, and help her mother—treat her.
