“Get away from me! I never promised to marry you! Maybe it’s not even mine? So go waltz around, and Ill be on my way,” said Viktor, the traveling worker, to the bewildered Valentina. She stood there, unable to believe her ears or eyes. Was this the same Viktor who had sworn his love and carried her in his arms? The same Vitenka who called her Valyushenka and promised her the world? Before her stood a slightly flustered, angry stranger
Valyushenka cried for a week, waving goodbye to Vitenka forever. But given her ageshe was already thirty-fiveand her plain looks, making it unlikely shed find love, she decided to have a baby anyway.
Valya gave birth on time to a loud baby girl. She named her Masha. The girl grew quiet, problem-free, and never troubled her mother. As if she knew no amount of screaming would change a thing. Valya wasnt unkind to her daughter, but it was clear she lacked real maternal loveshe fed her, clothed her, bought toys. But extra hugs, affection, or walks? Never. Little Mashenka often reached for her mother, only to be brushed awaytoo busy, too tired, always something. That instinct never seemed to wake in her.
When Masha turned seven, the unbelievable happenedValya met a man. Not just any man, she brought him home! The whole village buzzedwhat a reckless woman!
The guy was no goodan outsider, no steady job, lived who-knows-where. Maybe even a fraud! Valya worked at the village store, and he took odd jobs unloading trucks. Thats how their romance started. Soon, she invited him to move in. Neighbors judgedbringing a stranger home! What about the child? And he barely spokemust be hiding something. But Valya didnt listen, as if sensing this was her last chance at happiness.
But opinions changed about this silent man. Valentinas house, neglected for years, needed repairsIgor (his name) fixed the porch, patched the roof, raised the fallen fence. Each day, he improved something. Seeing his skill, people asked for help. Hed say:
“If you’re old or truly poor, Ill help for free. Otherwise, pay mecash or food.”
Some paid in money, others with preserves, meat, eggs, milk. Valya had a garden but no livestockwhat use without a man? Before, Masha rarely got treats like cream or fresh milk. Now, the fridge had homemade butter, cream, everything.
Igor had magic handsa jack of all trades. And Valya, never a beauty, blossomedglowing, kinder, softer. Even to Masha. She smiled, andwho knew?she had dimples.
Masha grew, started school. One day, she watched Igor work, marveling at his skill. Later, she visited a friend and returned at dusk. Opening the gate, she frozethere, in the yard, stood a swing! Swaying gently in the breeze, calling to her.
“For me?! Uncle Igor, did you make this?!” Masha couldnt believe her eyes.
“Of course, Mashun! All yours!” the usually reserved Igor laughed.
Masha swung wildly, wind whistling in her earshappiest girl alive.
Valya left early for work, so Igor took over cooking. His pies, casserolesdelicious! He taught Masha to cook, set a table. So much talent in this quiet man
When winter came, Igor walked her to and from school, carrying her bag, sharing storiescaring for his sick mother, selling his flat to help her, being tricked out of his home by his brother.
He taught her to fish. At dawn, they sat quietly by the river, learning patience. Come summer, he bought her a bike, taught her to ride. When she scraped her knees, he dabbed them with antiseptic.
“Shell get hurt,” Valya grumbled.
“No. She must learn to fall and get back up,” he replied firmly.
One New Year, he gave her real ice skatesSnow Maiden brand. They feasted at the table he and Masha set, toasted at midnight, laughing. The next morning, Valya and Igor woke to Mashas shrieks
“Skates! Real ones! White and new! Thank you!!!” She hugged them, tears of joy streaming.
At the frozen river, Igor cleared snow, teaching her to skate. She fell, but he held her hand until she steadied. When she finally glided without falling, she cheered. Leaving, she threw her arms around him:
“Thank you for everything. Thank you, Papa”
Now Igor criedhappy tears. He wiped them quickly, but they froze in the cold air like tiny icicles
Masha grew up, left for the city. Life threw challenges, as it does. But Igor was always thereher graduation, delivering groceries so his “dear Mashka” wouldnt go hungry. He walked her down the aisle, waited outside the maternity ward, adored his grandkids like few ever do.
Then, like all of us must, he left. At the funeral, Masha stood with her mother, grief-stricken. Tossing a handful of earth, she whispered:
“Goodbye, Papa You were the best father. Ill never forget you.”
And he stayed in her heart forevernot as Uncle Igor, not as a stepfather, but as her **father**. Because a father isnt always the one who gave you life, but the one who raised you, shared your pain and joy, who stayed by your side
