When Pasha wasn’t even five years old, his world collapsed. His mother had disappeared. He stood in a corner of the room, dazed with confusion: what was happening? Why was the house full of strangers? Who were they? Why was everyone so quiet, so strange, speaking in whispers and avoiding eye contact?
The boy didn’t understand why no one smiled. Why they said, “Cheer up, little one,” and hugged him, but they did so as if he’d lost something important. But he simply hadn’t seen his mother.
His father was away all day. He didn’t come near, didn’t hug, didn’t say a word. He just sat apart, empty and distant. Pasha approached the coffin and stared at his mother for a long time. She wasn’t like usual: no warmth, no smile, no lullabies at night. Pale, cold, frozen. She was frightening. And the boy didn’t dare come near her anymore.
Without his mother, everything changed. Gray. Empty. Two years later, his father remarried. The new woman, Galina, didn’t become part of his world. On the contrary, he felt irritated by it. He complained about everything, finding fault with him as if looking for an excuse to get angry. And his father remained silent. He didn’t defend himself. He didn’t intervene.
Every day, Pasha felt a pain he hid inside. The pain of loss. Longing. And every day, he longed more and more to return to the life his mother had lived.
Today was a special day: his mother’s birthday. In the morning, Pasha woke up with only one thought: he needed to go see her. To her grave. To bring her flowers. White calla lilies, his favorites. He remembered them in his hands in old photographs, shining next to her smile.
But where could he get money? He decided to ask his father.
Dad, will you give me some money? I need it so much…
Before she could explain, Galina came running out of the kitchen:
What’s this now? Are you already asking your father for money? Do you realize how difficult it is to earn a salary?
Her father looked up and tried to stop her:
“Girl, wait. He didn’t even say why. Son, tell me what you need.
I want to buy Mom some flowers. White calla lilies. Today is her birthday…”
Galina snorted, crossing her arms:
Oh, yes! Flowers! Money for them! Maybe you want to go to a restaurant too? Take something from the flowerbed! That’ll be your bouquet!”
“They’re not there,” Pasha replied in a low but firm voice. “They only sell them at the store.”
Her father looked thoughtfully at his son and then looked away at his wife:
“Girl, go prepare the meal. I’m hungry.”
The woman snorted sadly and disappeared into the kitchen. The father returned to his newspaper. And Pasha understood: he wouldn’t be getting any money. Not a single word was said after that.
He went quietly to his room, took out an old piggy bank, and counted the coins. Not many. But maybe enough?
Wasting no time, he ran out of the house to the flower shop. From afar, he saw the snow-white calla lilies in the window. So bright, almost magical. He stopped, holding his breath.
Then he walked resolutely inside.
“What do you want?” the saleswoman asked hostilely, looking at the boy critically. “You probably came to the wrong place. We don’t have toys or candy here. Only flowers.”
“I’m not like that… I really want to buy. Calla lilies… How much is a bouquet?”
The saleswoman announced the price. Pasha took all his coins out of his pocket. The amount was barely half the price.
“Please…” he begged. “I can work! Come here every day, help clean, dust, mop the floors… Just lend me this bouquet…”
“Are you normal?” the woman snorted with obvious irritation. “Do you think I’m a millionaire for giving flowers? Go away! Or I’ll call the police. Begging isn’t allowed here!”
But Pasha wasn’t going to give up. She needed those flowers today. She started pleading again:
“I’ll pay you back! I promise! I’ll earn whatever it takes! Please understand…”
“Look at this little actor!” the vendor shouted so loudly that passersby started turning around. “Where are your parents? Maybe it’s time to call social services? Why are you wandering around here alone? Last warning: get out before I call!”
At that moment, a man approached the shop. He happened to witness the scene.
He entered the flower shop just as the woman was yelling at the angry boy. It shocked him: he couldn’t stand injustice, especially towards children.
“Why are you yelling like that?” he asked the salesman sternly. “You’re yelling at him as if he’d stolen something. And he’s just a kid.”
“Who are you?” the woman snapped. “If you don’t know what’s going on, stay out of it. He almost stole my bouquet!”
“Well, of course, he almost stole,” the man raised his voice. “You attacked him like a hunter after his prey! He needs help, and you’re threatening him. Don’t you have a conscience?”
He turned to Pasha, who was standing in a corner, cowering and wiping tears from his cheeks.
Hello, friend. My name is Yura. Tell me why you’re upset. Did you want to buy flowers,
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