Denis woke up just as the first rays of the sun began to filter through the gaps between the curtains, and quiet but distinct footsteps were heard on the stairs. In their huge three-story house, every sound seemed to echo off the walls, reminding everyone that even the smallest rustle here would not go unnoticed. Denis stretched and cast a quick glance at the old wall clock ticking with unwavering precision. The hands showed half past six. There could be only one person: Lyudmila Petrovna — the kind, caring housekeeper who started her day early as if leading an entire army of helpers.
Their house was not just a dwelling — it was a true family kingdom. Three floors, like three generations intertwined. The first floor had a spacious kitchen, a cozy living room with leather sofas, and grandfather’s study, filled with books and the scent of old wood. The second floor was the realm of sleep, comfort, and personal space. And the third floor — a children’s paradise: a playroom cluttered with toys, bright rugs, and shelves piled high with books. Every corner of the house held warmth and memories of family traditions, of generations that had passed through its doors.
Suddenly, a cheerful and familiar voice came from below:
— Denis, breakfast is ready!
He went downstairs to the kitchen where the whole family was already gathered. His mother, Tatyana Anatolyevna, stood by the mirror, fixing her hair, radiating confidence and feminine grace. His sister Olga, a bit tired but still caring, was feeding the five-year-old twins, Sasha and Irina. But the children, as always, were reluctant to obey.
— Sasha, eat faster, — Olga patiently urged, though tension was already audible in her voice.
— I don’t want porridge! I want pancakes! — the boy stubbornly pouted.
At that moment, grandfather Anatoly Stepanovich entered the kitchen. Tall, with a gray beard and eyes full of wisdom and strength. He was not just the elder of the family — he was its pillar, the patriarch whose authority was unquestioned. At seventy, he still carried himself proudly, like a true master of life.
— Good morning, family, — he said, taking his place at the head of the table, as if returning to a throne.
Anatoly Stepanovich was a man with a rich and eventful life. His youth was spent at the golden mines of Siberia, where he toughened his character and learned to value each day. Later, moving to the city, he opened a pawnshop. In times when people needed money, he was not just a creditor — he was a support, hope, and sometimes the only chance. Over thirty years, his business grew into a small but thriving network that provided a decent life for the whole family.
— Grandfather, how are things at the pawnshop? — Denis asked, picking up his spoon.
— Good, grandson. Yesterday a man came with gold watches. Swiss, real ones. Gave him a good sum — his wife needs money for surgery.
Anatoly Stepanovich was never greedy. He knew the value of money but valued human life even more. He remembered times when he was at the bottom, so he always tried to help if he could.
After breakfast, the whole family gathered in the living room. Lyudmila Petrovna stood before them, fidgeting with the edge of her apron. Her usually kind eyes were red — she was crying.
— I have to tell you… — she began, her voice trembling. — I can’t work here anymore.
Silence hung in the air. Even the children stopped playing, feeling the tension in the room.
— What happened? — grandfather asked, frowning. — Did we offend you somehow?
— No, no! — the woman waved her hands. — You are the best people. It’s just that my daughter in Novosibirsk is ill. Cancer. She needs help, and the grandchildren are very young. I must go to her.
Tatyana Anatolyevna stood up and hugged the woman:
— Lyudochka, dear, of course, go. We understand. Family is the most important.
— When are you leaving? — Olga asked, her voice trembling.
— Tomorrow morning. I’ve already bought the ticket.
The rest of the day passed in bustle and farewells. Lyudmila Petrovna showed where everything was, how to prepare grandfather’s favorite dishes, where the children’s toys were kept. She tried to fit years of care into a few hours. In the evening, Anatoly Stepanovich handed her an envelope:
— For your daughter’s treatment. And don’t refuse it.
The next morning, Lyudmila Petrovna left. And the house immediately felt different. Empty, as if someone had taken part of its soul away. Olga tried to take everything into her own hands, but the two children exhausted her to the limit. The twins became even more capricious.
— Mom, where’s my red car? — whined Sasha.
— I don’t know, son. Look in your room.
— Lyudmila Petrovna always knew where my toys were!
By evening, chaos reached a critical point. Dishes piled up in the sink, soup burned on the stove, children ran around with dirty hands. The air was filled with fatigue and irritation.
— We need to find a new helper, — grandfather said at dinner.
— I’m already looking, — Tatyana Anatolyevna replied. — I put an ad in the newspaper.
The next day interviews began. Different women came: some too young, some too old, some untidy, some demanding excessive pay. Anatoly Stepanovich was surprisingly picky.
— Grandfather, we won’t find anyone like that, — Denis said.
— Better to wait than take the first person who comes along, — the old man cut in.
After a week, Denis realized this couldn’t go on. The house had turned into a battlefield. Olga was rushing between the children and the household, mother was nervous, grandfather was grumbling. Finally, he decided to go somewhere to distract himself a bit.
— I’ll have dinner at the café, — he said and left the house.
The café “Cozy” was two blocks away. A small, comfortable place serving simple but tasty food. Denis often came here for lunch. He ordered borscht and a cutlet and sat at a table by the window. At the neighboring table sat a young woman with a girl about five years old. The woman was beautiful but tired. Her dark hair was tied in a ponytail; her face showed signs of sleeplessness. The girl — fair-haired with big blue eyes — was being fussy.
— Nastya, eat your soup, — the woman gently urged.
— I don’t want to! It’s yucky!
— Nastya, please. We didn’t order anything else.
Denis looked at their table — only a bowl of soup and a piece of bread. Clearly saving money. The girl knocked over the bowl. Soup spilled all over the table.
— Anastasia! — the woman exclaimed in despair.
The waitress came to wipe the table, casting a disapproving glance. The woman blushed and began to apologize. Denis couldn’t stand it. He approached their table:
— Excuse me, may I sit down?
— Yes, of course.
— My name is Denis. And yours?
— Ekaterina. This is my daughter Nastya.
He ordered a kid’s meal for Nastya and a salad for Ekaterina.
— Thank you very much, — said Ekaterina. — You’re very kind.
— It’s just clear you’re going through a hard time.
Ekaterina sighed:
— Yes, not the easiest. We recently moved to the city. Living with my aunt. I’m looking for work, but it’s hard with a child.
— Where did you live before?
— In Omsk. I had a husband there, but we divorced. He turned out to be not the man I thought.
— What’s your specialty?
— I’m a cook. Worked in a restaurant, but when Nastya was born, I had to quit. My husband earned well; I stayed home. Then everything fell apart.
Denis thought for a moment. An idea came suddenly:
— Have you considered working as a housekeeper? In a good family?
Ekaterina’s eyes lit up:
— Basically, why not. I can cook.
— My family is just looking for a helper, — said Denis. — We have a big house, children. We can offer a good salary and a separate room.
— Seriously? What kind of family?
— We live in three generations. Grandfather, parents, me, sister with kids. The house is three stories, lots of space.
And at that moment Denis felt like a new day was beginning — not just in the house, but in their lives.
— Can I bring Nastya with me? — Ekaterina asked hopefully, looking at Denis with tired but lively eyes.
— Of course! — he smiled. — I think she’ll enjoy playing with other children. We have quite a group — Sasha and Irina. They’re almost the same age.
— It sounds like a fairy tale… — Ekaterina whispered, as if afraid the words would scatter in the air. — But I have no references. After the divorce, I wanted to start a new life.
— References aren’t the main thing, — Denis replied gently. — The main thing is that a person is decent. And I see you’re a good person.
— When can I meet the family?
— Tomorrow, if you want. But I warn you — grandfather is strict. He’s the head of the family, and his word is law.
The next day Denis brought Ekaterina with Nastya home. The house greeted them with silence, but not the dead silence that hung after Lyudmila Petrovna left, but an expectation of something new. The family gathered in the living room like for an important meeting. Everyone — from grandfather to the twins — was ready for a decision that could change their lives.
— Sit down, — said grandfather, proudly straightening his shoulders. — Tell us about yourself.
— My name is Ekaterina Vladimirovna Morozova. I’m twenty-eight. I have a technical secondary education, fourth-grade cook qualification.
— Why did you quit? — asked Anatoly Stepanovich, looking intently at her.
— My daughter was born. My husband earned well. I left to be with the child.
— Where is your husband now? — the grandfather continued his questioning.
— We divorced. He started drinking. Then he raised his hand against me and the child.
— Do you have any references?
— Unfortunately, no. After the divorce, I wanted to start a new life.
— That’s suspicious, — grandfather frowned, looking at her critically.
Ekaterina straightened as if steel had awakened inside her at that moment.
— I’m ready for a trial period. If I’m not suitable, I’ll leave without claims.
Tatyana Anatolyevna watched cautiously. The lack of references made her wary. She was used to trusting facts, not intuition. Olga, on the contrary, looked at little Nastya who was already playing with Sasha, and hope flickered in her eyes.
— What can you do? — Olga asked, trying to soften the atmosphere.
— Cook, clean, wash, iron. I love children, know how to handle them.
Anatoly Stepanovich stood up as if crowning the decision.
— The conditions are these. Working day from eight in the morning to eight in the evening. Sunday off. Salary thirty thousand plus food and lodging. Trial period — one month.
— I agree, — Ekaterina answered firmly.
— You can start Monday. But I warn you — I’m demanding.
Meanwhile, Nastya began playing with the twins. The children quickly became friends, as if they understood that what united them was not just age, but a shared need for care and love. Sasha was already showing Nastya his cars, and Irina was inviting her to play dolls.
On Monday Ekaterina came at eight in the morning. Tatyana Anatolyevna showed her the house, explained family habits, grandfather’s peculiarities, children’s quirks, favorite dishes. Ekaterina listened carefully, took notes, smiled — and immediately got to work.
She tidied the kitchen, arranged pots in their places, washed windows, prepared breakfast. At half past seven Anatoly Stepanovich came down. On the table awaited oatmeal with honey and strong black tea.
— Not bad, — he grumbled after tasting the porridge, but a flicker of approval shone in his eyes.
It was harder with the children. They were used to Lyudmila Petrovna, to her voice, to her hands that always found the right toy. Sasha resisted:
— I won’t eat! — he declared, crossing his arms.
— What do you like? — Ekaterina asked, kneeling in front of him.
— Pancakes with jam!
— I’ll make pancakes tomorrow. Today try the porridge. See how pretty it is?
By lunch she cooked borscht and fried cutlets. The aromas filled the house as if bringing back the warmth that had been lost. Grandfather, tasting the borscht, nodded reservedly:
— Haven’t had borscht like this in a long time.
After lunch Ekaterina began cleaning. The house became clean and fresh as if spring had come. Even grandfather noticed:
— How’s the first day?
— Fine. Tomorrow will be easier, — she replied confidently.
— Bring your daughter tomorrow.
A month passed. Ekaterina fully settled into the family rhythm. The house transformed — everywhere was tidy, the children were full and happy. Nastya quickly befriended the twins, and Olga found it easier — the children kept each other occupied without constantly needing her attention.
— I think we can keep her permanently, — grandfather told his wife, watching the girls laugh on the lawn.
— Ekaterina, — Denis said one evening. — The trial period is over. Do you want to stay?
— Of course! — she replied, wiping away a tear. — You have become my second family.
Day by day, the house became calmer, kinder. When there is order and tasty food, the atmosphere changes. Even grandfather softened a bit, and the children became happier.
A year passed. Ekaterina became an inseparable part of the family. But changes happened in her life. She met Ivan — a man from the nearby store. He loved not only her but also Nastya as his own.
— He proposed marriage, — Ekaterina told Tatyana Anatolyevna. — But I don’t know how it will affect my work.
— Let’s talk with the family.
That evening a family council gathered. Just like the good old days: grandfather in his armchair, mother with a cup of tea, Olga with the children, Denis nearby.
— We have a proposal, — Anatoly Stepanovich said. — There’s a small house on the property. We’ll renovate it, and you and your husband will live there. You’ll still work for us.
— And we’ll pay for the wedding, — Olga added. — It’s our gift.
— Why are you so kind to me? — Ekaterina asked, holding back tears.
— Because you deserve it, — said Tatyana Anatolyevna. — You brought warmth and comfort back into the house.
The wedding was modest but warm. The whole family came to congratulate the newlyweds. The little house was quickly renovated, as if the house itself awaited a new life.
— Mom, will we live here forever now? — Nastya asked, looking at her new window to the world.
— If we want, yes.
— I want to! I like it. And Sasha and Irina are nearby.
That evening at dinner, Denis raised his glass. The house smelled again of fresh pies, children laughed, and outside, as if in response to their happiness, the full moon shone.
— A year ago, we lost Lyudmila Petrovna and thought no one could replace her. But life gave us Ekaterina. She became herself, and we became richer.
— To Ekaterina and Ivan! — grandfather raised his glass.
— To our big family! — Olga added, hugging the children.
The three-story house was once again full of laughter and warmth. Nearby stood a small house where another happy family lived — part of the big family that took in a single mother with a child.
Denis thought about how strangely life is arranged. Sometimes loss turns into gain, and a chance meeting changes destinies. The main thing is not to be afraid to reach out and help. Then, even on the darkest day, the sun will surely peek out from behind the clouds to remind us: there is still room in the world for kindness, love, and hope.
