You know, darling, you’ll have to part with your fur coat.”
“Why would that be?”
“I’m tired of listening to your mother’s groans—what an ungrateful son she is. So we’re going to give your coat to her.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Of course. At least there’ll be peace at home!”
“What about me?”
“What— you?”
“How am I supposed to dress then?”
“You have a down jacket that looks quite decent. And anyway: before buying a fur coat, you should have consulted me!”
Marinka stood in the corridor, unsure whether to cry or laugh. On one hand, Artem had nothing to do with buying the fur coat. In fact, he earned very little and wasn’t striving for more. Besides, his mother was always drawing money from their family—first a vacation package, then a new television. And now… a fur coat… the very one she had dreamed of for so many years.
The dream of a fur coat appeared back in kindergarten. Marinka had only her mother. The family wasn’t well off: for that New Year, they didn’t even have a real tree—just a few branches. Marinka’s mother placed them in a vase, decorated them with paper garlands and ornaments. Then they made “Herring under a Fur Coat,” boiled potatoes, jellied meat—that was the entire New Year’s dinner. When the clock struck, her mother told everyone to make a wish.
“I want the Snow Maiden to come to me right now!” Marinka closed her eyes.
Her mother laughed loudly.
“Dummy, don’t say your wish out loud, or it won’t come true!”
“But it will come true!” Marinka pouted and furrowed her brows. She didn’t like that her mother didn’t believe her wish would be fulfilled.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
“That’s the Snow Maiden!”
Joyfully, Marinka ran to the door, flung it open, and shouted,
“I knew you’d come! I made such a wish!”
Standing in the doorway was almost a real Snow Maiden. She wore a long, flowing white fur coat, held gifts in her hands, her cheeks flushed from the cold—and she smelled of wonderfully delicate perfume.
“Sveta? Is that you?! Where did you come from?!” Marinka’s mother squealed with joy and threw herself around the Snow Maiden’s neck.
“Hello, sis—an opportunity came up, so here I am.”
“How wonderful! Come in! But… I don’t have much to offer you…”
“Oh, nothing! I only need some tea—and I brought a cake with me. By the way, I’m not alone: meet Nikolai, my husband.”
Marinka looked with wide eyes first at the guest, then at her companion. The man looked like an exotic count—slim, tall, with a neatly graying beard.
“Mom, so you’re the Snow Maiden’s sister?” Marinka asked in surprise.
“No, no! This isn’t the Snow Maiden—it’s my sister Sveta!” her mother laughed. Then she sighed bitterly. “She lives far, far away from here.”
The Snow Maiden-Sveta had brought sparklers and party poppers, bright tinsel, fruits and sweets, and even a genuine Barbie doll—something none of the girls in kindergarten had! But the little girl wasn’t looking at the Barbie; her eyes were fixed on the fur coat, neatly hanging on a rack in the corridor.
“Do you like it?” the Snow Maiden-Sveta whispered in her ear.
“Yes,” Marinka whispered back.
“If you want, you can try it on.”
“I do,” Marinka managed, so excited her voice nearly vanished.
“Then climb onto the stool, recite a poem, and I’ll bring the coat,” ordered the Snow Maiden-Sveta.
Marinka stood on a stool in the middle of the room. The pristine white fur tickled her ears and neck, the coat smelled sweetly of perfume, and it was incredibly light yet warmly inviting.
“And what did you ask Santa Claus for?” asked the Snow Maiden-Sveta.
“That you would come. And now I have one more wish: I want a fur coat!”
“Listen, mother,” Svetlana said with a laugh to her sister, “your child wants a fur coat! So be so kind!”
And the mother relented: as soon as she received her salary, she bought her daughter a fur coat from a second-hand store.
“So what if it’s heavy—as long as it’s warm!” the mother said, shaking her daughter, who had awkwardly collapsed into an old, worn-out sheepskin coat.
“It’s black, not white!” Marinka cried, refusing to wear it.
“But you asked for a fur coat—so take it!”
“I wanted a different one, light, like the Snow Maiden’s!”
“Next time, be more precise with your wishes,” her mother shrugged.
Until the end of kindergarten—and in the first and second grades—Marinka was forced to wear a shabby coat. Her mother even doubled the sleeve lengths and tore open the hem that had been turned up, so that by the end of that last winter for the coat, Marinka looked like a shot sparrow in rags.
“I want a fur coat—light, bright, beautiful,” Marinka wished for New Year’s in the third grade.
And Santa Claus heard her wish: he placed a parcel with a fur coat under the tree. It was light-colored with leopard spots, incredibly light yet completely un-warm. And what else could one expect from a fur coat made of artificial Cheburashka fur—which, in recent years, had suffered from chickenpox?
Marinka cried. Her mother was angry.
“Again not what you wanted?! Well, understand, a fur coat like Aunt Sveta’s costs a fortune! And you can’t even buy such one in our city!”
“Then I’d rather have nothing than… such a one,” Marinka declared indignantly.
“Talk to me again and you’ll see! What was bought is what you wear!” her mother roared, no longer like a little girl but like a harsh woman.
After the “leopard” fur coat, they bought Marinka a coat; then came the trend for leather jackets and down jackets. In high school and college, Marinka had both. And then her mother fell ill.
“Sweetheart, there’s money in the dresser. I saved up for your fur coat. I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” her mother said weakly.
“Mommy, I don’t need a fur coat—as long as you’re with me…”
Alas, her mother passed away for good. Marinka was torn between her studies, a part-time job, and caring for her mother. And if it weren’t for Artem, things would have been even harder. Artem, a young man, sold meat at the market near Marinka’s house. One day, they started talking; Artem invited her to the movies, and she agreed. She just longed for a little happiness and a break from the endless routine.
After college, Marinka couldn’t find a job for a long time, so she ended up at the first place that hired her. She worked harder than anyone, yet earned the least (“You had no experience! Be thankful they even pay you!”). But the job was near home, so she could care for her mother. And Artem was always around, helping however he could.
“Marinushka, marry me. I’m going to start my own business—you’ll be living like cheese in butter; we’ll get your mother back on her feet, buy a car…”
“Oh, Artemushka, your words sound like music to my ears!”
“Stop doubting me! My mother raised me to be a real man—a man of his word and a provider. You’ll see: we’ll get married and live well!”
The first hint came at the wedding. The festive luncheon was very modest, yet Artem expected generous gifts and was deeply offended when guests gave envelopes of money instead of household appliances or useful items.
“So, darling, now we’ll live well!” Artem exclaimed joyfully, shaking money around. “I’ll buy myself a leather jacket and a car!”
“Sweetheart, let’s also get me a fur coat,” Marinka suggested just as happily.
“A fur coat? For you?” Artem’s face darkened. “No, that’s a foolish waste of money. I’ll be taxiing in the car, earning money, investing in my business. And a fur coat—will it feed you?”
Six months later, Artem quit his job at the market and stopped talking about his business. With the “wedding” money, he bought the cheapest car, which needed repairs costing three to four times its price. Artem kept waiting for a job offer, but after an entire year, nothing came. Meanwhile, Marinka discovered a hobby that brought in a modest income: in rare free moments, she made soap, candles, crafted unique greeting cards and albums, and worked with plaster…
“Marina, when will you come help me?” her mother-in-law would call every Friday.
“Tomorrow, I’ll come—I promise,” Marinka said wearily.
“I count on you!”
Her mother-in-law expected her on Saturdays so that the daughter-in-law would do the cleaning and prepare meals for the week. And when she found out Marinka was crafty, she began ordering her handmade gifts for every holiday for all her friends.
“Darling, why isn’t the house tidy? And where’s dinner?” Artem would ask regularly.
All those promises of diamonds, love, and care turned out to be empty words. The entrepreneur in Artem turned out to be nothing. In truth, he wasn’t much of a husband either. He was constantly getting jobs, only to be fired after two or three weeks. Marinka felt like she wasn’t even Cinderella—rather, she was a workhorse that everyone wanted to shoot so she wouldn’t suffer any longer.
One day, Marinka was so exhausted that she fell asleep with her head resting on her mother’s kitchen table. She woke when someone gently stroked her shoulder.
“My poor little girl, they’ve worn you out,” came the soft voice.
“Is that you, Snow Maiden?” Marinka asked in surprise.
“What do you mean! I’m your Aunt Sveta, remember?”
“Of course! But I thought you were the Snow Maiden!”
“Marinushka, sweetheart, it hurts me to see what you’ve become. Tell me, can I help you with something?”
“I don’t know… I just want to sleep.”
Aunt Sveta shook her head once again. Though she couldn’t come over in person, she talked on the phone for hours, painting a rosy picture of how wonderfully she and Marinka were living. And now, having come to visit, Sveta was met with a disheartening sight. Poor thing—so poor, even though the place was neat. An exhausted Marinka looked at least ten years older than her age, and her mother was fading away in her illness like a dying candle. Why hadn’t they asked for help? Pride, perhaps.
“Here’s what we’ll do, niece: on Monday, you’ll go to this address—they’re waiting for you. It’s a good job, well suited to your profile. The salary… I think you’ll work something out,” Aunt Sveta said firmly.
“Thank you,” Marinka managed to say, even as she cried. For the first time, someone gave her something instead of demanding from her.
“I’ll take your mother to the doctor tomorrow. I think we can get her better,” her mother murmured weakly.
“And, dear niece, forgive me if I’m blunt, but I’m 27 years older than you—and I look infinitely better. So today, you stay here and rest. Tomorrow, take a day off work, and we’ll treat ourselves at the beauty salon. We’ll buy a couple of dresses for the office. That’s where my financial help ends: I give you the fishing rod—now go catch the fish yourself,” Aunt Sveta laughed.
You should have heard how her mother-in-law screamed when Marinka didn’t come over on Saturday! Instead, she sent Artem: “Your mom—go help her!”
On Monday, Marinka arrived at her new job.
“And you are the valuable specialist that Sveta told me about? I am Ivan Alekseevich,” said the firm’s owner at the door. He had decided to personally see the girl he had heard so much about.
“Probably,” Marinka blushed.
“Don’t be shy. My HR found your resume six months ago and said, ‘There’s something there, but let’s wait.’ We’ve been keeping an eye on you since. We were about to contact you and offer you a job, and then Sveta suggested ‘why not take a look at my niece?’ How perfectly everything worked out!” the director laughed heartily, pleased with the turn of events.
Marinka couldn’t help but fall for the handsome, confident man. He, too, looked at the future employee with interest.
“In short, here’s what: go for an interview, then get hired, and by this evening your salary will be deposited into your account.”
“But why do we even need an interview?”
“Marinka, you’re a young specialist,” the director said reproachfully.
Marinka felt her heart contract—she feared it would be just like her old job all over again.
“We need to see what you know and can do, and if needed, assign you a mentor or send you for courses. As far as I know, our HR has already planned something. Our team is great—you’ll like it!”
Ivan Alekseevich did not disappoint: that very evening, a deposit appeared in her account. On Tuesday, Marinka was welcomed at the office like family. Colleagues surrounded her with attention; it turned out that teams could be made up not only of backstabbing snakes but also of kind people.
And two weeks later, Marinka bought a fur coat. A silvery, short one. With it came boots and a long, floor-length skirt. When Artem saw her new look, he trembled. He was irritated that Marinka started refusing to visit his mother, no longer preparing his favorite dishes. Moreover, his wife had the nerve to improve her appearance—and now even sported a fur coat! It was as if she had acquired a “protector!”
“Crazy woman! In this house there are plenty of people, yet you’re buying fur coats! Or did some lover give it to you? Better if you’d given me money—I would have found a use for it!” Artem hissed.
“This is the bonus I got at work!”
“I told you—better if you’d given me money!”
“But I’ve always dreamed so!”
“Who dreams what they please! I dream of a new car! In short, return that fur coat to the store; we’ll use that money to buy a car on credit.”
“And I’m not going to think about that!” angry sparks danced in Marinka’s eyes. “This is my fur coat. And if you need a car—go earn one!”
Artem was hurt and went to spend the night at his mother’s. He didn’t explain the reason for the quarrel. The next day he returned and, after a long sigh, declared that Marinka had indeed earned the fur coat. He also happily reported that he had found a job.
“Oh, Marinushka, what a beautiful fur coat you have!” her mother-in-law exclaimed, waving her hands in admiration as Marinka visited on Saturday. “Where did you get such a dress?”
“Artem gave it to me on our anniversary,” blurted Marinka, the first thing that came to her mind.
Oh, how the girl later regretted those words! From then on, the silvery fur coat was mentioned at every possible opportunity.
“Well, yes, in our family we don’t do fur coats, nor do we have new boots,” her mother-in-law said resentfully when Marinka suggested buying her new boots.
“I’m freezing—it’s warm for you in a fur coat, but my coat is already old,” her mother-in-law complained.
“You’d better care for your mother as much as you care for your idle wife!” her mother-in-law shouted at her son. “You give her a fur coat, and to me you give a bagel with a hole? Ungrateful! I haven’t slept a wink!…”
“You rich folks have your own quirks. One moment you’re buying fur coats, the next you’re going to corporate events. How can we possibly compare!” her mother-in-law sneered contemptuously when Marinka informed her in advance that she wouldn’t be able to visit because she had to prepare for a corporate event.
In short, the long-awaited fur coat became a source of envy and a trigger for quarrels.
“Marinka, forgive me, but I simply can’t take it anymore. I’m tired of listening to your mother’s reproaches. The day after tomorrow is her birthday—I’m going to give her your fur coat as a present.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Of course. There’s no money for another gift anyway. And she dreams of a fur coat. We’ll give her yours—and that’s that. At least there will be peace at home!”
“What about me?”
“What— you?”
“How am I supposed to dress?”
“You have a down jacket that looks quite decent. And anyway: before buying a fur coat, you should have consulted me!”
“Maybe you should earn the money for a gift for your mother yourself?”
“Do you even realize how hard we’d have to work to buy such a fur coat? No, it’s easier to give yours away.”
Marinka tossed and turned all night. This declaration from her husband was the last straw. What had she gained in marriage? Nothing! The apartment was rented—paid for with her money. They bought groceries with her earnings. And her mother-in-law treated her like a golden fish sent over on deliveries! At least, fortunately, Aunt Sveta had relieved Marinka of the burden of caring for her mother: after a course of treatment at a clinic, her mother went for rehabilitation, and then she and her sister planned to go on vacation.
On her mother-in-law’s birthday, Marinka got up early and went to work. Of course, she went out wearing her fur coat, a brand-new skirt, and light boots. Later around noon, Artem woke up and noticed the fur coat was missing. He immediately began bombarding Marinka with phone calls. She didn’t answer right away. Artem was furious.
“Yes, dear?” she finally answered.
“Listen, wife, what’s going on? Where’s the fur coat? Am I supposed to go to the birthday with empty hands?”
“Want to—go with empty hands. And the fur coat is with me. By the way, I’ll make your mother a gift myself.”
“You? Are you out of your mind! She expects me—not you—to give her a fur coat!”
Marinka simply hung up and never answered his calls again.
That evening, she arrived at the celebration. Light, airy, with the subtle trail of expensive perfume, Marinka resembled a fairy or the Snow Maiden. The guests couldn’t help but admire her, and without even undressing, she approached her mother-in-law and handed her a box tied with a bow.
“Oh, what’s in there?” her mother-in-law asked, clearly annoyed; she had been expecting a fur coat that wouldn’t even fit in a box.
“Open it!” Marinka suggested.
Artem strained to peer into the box, and when he finally managed, he whistled in surprise.
“Well, wife, you really outdid yourself!” Inside the box was the latest flagship smartphone. “Is that my gift that you took?”
“Of course, dear,” Marinka smiled.
Then she went into the hall and returned with a large branded bag and an envelope.
“Here,” she said, handing the envelope to her mother-in-law.
“I can’t understand what is written…” her mother-in-law complained, looking at Marinka, who had clearly read every word on the paper.
“Let me read it,” declared Artem. He snatched the paper from her mother’s hands and, in a ceremonious tone, began to read: “Divorce petition. What?! How could you!…”
“Simple and straightforward. And here’s your gift from Artem,” Marinka said, handing her mother-in-law a bag containing her husband’s down jacket. “In the hall there are five more bags with his belongings. Take them— I don’t care. Take them along with your son and go. I irritate you because I’m supposedly living off your son. You drill Artem for a fur coat—but I bought it myself with my own hard-earned money. This way, we solve all our problems with one declaration. Happy holiday! And— good luck!”
Marinka left the house, along with the bags and her old life, ending an unsuccessful marriage. In the end, Aunt Sveta had been right: you must never let anyone ride on your back, or else you’ll become a workhorse and eventually break yourself.
Artem called Marinka many times afterwards, demanding money for food and a new car, sometimes pleading with her to come back, sometimes threatening with trouble. He was fired from his next job as well. His mother-in-law called only once. She cried for a long time, begged for forgiveness, and literally pleaded with Marinka to return to the family. But the girl was happy—happy to have finally freed herself from that yoke and to be able to live for herself.
A career breakthrough, marriage, and a stable family awaited Marinka. Her mother never fully recovered, but now lived independently—inviting her daughter and family over on weekends. Sveta helped her and her sister find work they loved, so Marinka’s mother discovered new interests and goals in life. And the fur coat… that very silvery coat remains Marinka’s favorite to this day. For it was thanks to that coat that the girl found the strength to change her life for the better.
