My boyfriend and I rented a room from my grandmother. We’ve been living with her for eight months now.
We share the refrigerator with her, and her shelves were always empty. One thing unchanged was a pot of oatmeal on water. Soap – only laundry soap, oil – only cheap, smelly soap. The shoes in the corridor were patched and rerolled. The apartment screamed poverty.
Our hostess did not pry into our souls, she went to her trades from morning till night – she collected cans and put up posters. Every Sunday my grandmother had a feast of rotten fruit from the market.
I felt sorry for my neighbor to the point of tears. And when a guest came to visit her, I sobbed a little at the injustice.
– Did you have the money ready? – asked a woman of about 45, who opened the door with her key.
– Yes, daughter. Here, take it,” our hostess fussed.
– It’s not enough. All right, it’ll do. I’ll bring my daughter tomorrow, she deserves it.
– Whose clothes are these? You have guests?
– I rented my room, I have to live on something, I give you my pension, – the pensioner began to justify herself.
– Well, I’ll go and see what kind of tenants you have. Apparently, cheaters, – the woman opened the door to our room.
– Well, who do we have here?
Such a cavalier intrusion into the honestly paid for territory, I took with a wave of disbelief:
– Woman, close the door on the other side!
– And who are you to tell me what to do? I’m the lady of the house! Now you will pay me, here’s my phone number, and here – the number of the card. – The woman in her shoes went into the room and put two pieces of paper on the table. – And don’t make any delays, or I’ll evict you! How long ago did you pay the rent?
– Daughter, leave her alone, please. I paid the debt for the light from the rent, or they threatened to cut it off. And how can I without light? – my landlady almost cried.
– Don’t take any more rent, let her send it to me. That’s it, I’m gone. Tomorrow, as I promised, I’ll bring my daughter. And come on, don’t play with me here!
The woman left, and the landlady sat down on a chair in the corridor and cried. I went over to her grandmother, hugged her and began to calm her down:
– “Well, do not cry, everything will be fine. Let me give you some tea!
I have never seen my neighbor’s tea – she brewed herself leaves of raspberries and currants, which were hanging in bunches in the kitchen.
The old woman took a mug and began to tell me a story:
I raised my daughter alone, my husband was missing – he left home and never came back. She put her heart and soul into it. She grew up to be arrogant, always looking for suitors. She found a husband at 35 and bore me a granddaughter. But her husband is stingy and greedy and can’t ask for a drop of water in the rain. So I started helping them and my granddaughter.
And then, unnoticed by me, voluntary help turned into an obligation. He takes away my pension, and if I don’t give it to him, I can’t see my granddaughter. I thought I would rent out my room and at least I would be able to eat, but she also gets these crumbs. Who have I raised? Where did I miss?
Eliza was in tears, forgetting her tea. I pitied her to tears.
– And now she wants to move me – to sell my apartment and throw me out on the outskirts of one-room apartment. Or maybe she’ll leave me on the street. She starts talking like this while she is thinking about it. And when she takes the bite, she will blackmail me again with her granddaughter. And I’ll sell my apartment like a sweetheart, just to see my treasure.
When my boyfriend came home from college – he’s a fourth-year law student, I asked him what he could do? How could I help the old lady?
We went around to the neighbors who had heard Elisa’s daughter screaming for money, talked to them, and called witnesses to the trial. With the mistress herself we went and wrote a petition to determine the order of communication between the granddaughter and her grandmother.
The guy advised the grandmother to get certificates from the narcologist and psychiatrist for the court, and who knows what her daughter will say.
We won the case and now Elisa sees her granddaughter legally, once every two weeks for three hours. Her pension is no longer required, there is nothing to blackmail her with. The owner began to eat meat, normal fruit has become a frequent guest on her table. And we also help her to do repairs. Not a major, of course, but somewhere to touch up the paint and change the 30-year-old wallpaper we are able to.
In gratitude for our help, Elise refuses to take money from us for the room. But we still give it to her, almost by force.
How can you do this to your own mother? Take an already tiny pension, not caring what will eat the woman who gave birth to her and raised her? Blatant ingratitude to mommy.
Love your parents! You only exist because of them!
