Sir, today is my mothers birthday I want to buy flowers, but I dont have enough money I bought the boy a bouquet. And later, when I reached the grave, I saw that bouquet there.
When Pasha was barely five, his world shattered. His mother had disappeared. He stood in a corner of the room, bewilderedwhat was happening? Why were strangers filling the house? Who were they? Why was everyone so silent, so odd, whispering and avoiding eye contact?
The child could not grasp why no one smiled. Why they told him, Stay strong, little one, and hugged him as if he had lost something vital. He simply could not see his mother.
His father spent the whole day far away. He never approached, never embraced, never uttered a word. He sat apart, empty and distant. Pasha moved toward the coffin and stared at his mother for a long time. She looked nothing like she usually didno warmth, no smile, no night lullabies. She was pale, cold, frozen. It terrified him, and he no longer dared to get any closer.
Without his mother, everything turned gray, empty. Two years later his father remarried. The new womanGalinanever became part of his world. Instead, she seemed irritated by him, grumbling about everything, finding faults as if looking for an excuse to be angry. His father stayed silent, didnt defend him, didnt intervene.
Every day Pasha carried a hidden painthe ache of loss, the longing. With each passing day he wished more and more to return to the life when his mother was alive.
Today was a special dayhis mothers birthday. In the morning Pasha woke with only one thought: he had to go to her, to the grave, and bring flowers. White calla liliesher favorite. He remembered them in old photographs, shining beside her smile.
But where would the money come from? He decided to ask his father.
Dad, can I have a little money? I really need it
Before he could finish, Galina burst out of the kitchen:
What now?! Youre already asking your father for money?! Do you even realize how hard it is to earn a salary?
His father looked up and tried to intervene:
Gal, wait. He hasnt even said why yet. Son, tell me what you need.
I want to buy flowers for Mom. White calla lilies. Today is her birthday
Galina scoffed, crossing her arms:
Oh, really! Flowers! Money for them! Maybe you also want to go to a restaurant? Take something from the flowerbedthatll be your bouquet!
Theyre not there, Pasha replied calmly but firmly. Theyre only sold in the store.
His father glanced thoughtfully at his son, then at his wife:
Gal, go prepare lunch. Im hungry.
The woman muttered unhappily and vanished into the kitchen. The father returned to his newspaper. Pasha understood he would get no money. No further words were spoken.
He slipped back to his room, opened an old piggy bank, counted the coins. Not many, but perhaps enough?
Without delay he sprinted out of the house toward the flower shop. From the street he saw the snowywhite calla lilies displayed in the window, bright and almost magical. He paused, breath held.
Then he stepped inside.
What do you want? the shopkeeper asked, eyeing the boy with a cold stare. Youre probably in the wrong place. We dont sell toys or sweets hereonly flowers.
Im not looking for that I really want to buy callas. How much for a bouquet?
The seller quoted a price. Pasha emptied his pocket; his coins covered barely half the sum.
Please he implored. I can work! Ill come every day, clean, dust, wash floors Just let me have this bouquet
Are you crazy? the woman snapped, irritated. Do you think Im a millionaire who just gives away flowers? Get out, or Ill call the policebegging isnt welcome here!
Pasha refused to give up. He needed those flowers today. He pleaded again:
Ill pay everything back! I promise! Ill earn whatever is needed! Please understand
Oh, look at this little actor! the seller shouted so loudly that passersby turned. Where are your parents? Maybe its time to call social services? Why are you here alone? Last warningleave before I call the police!
At that moment a man entered the shop, having witnessed the scene.
He stepped in just as the woman was yelling at the upset child. He couldnt stand the injustice, especially toward a kid.
Why are you shouting like that? he demanded of the seller. Youre treating him as if he stole something, and hes just a boy.
And who are you? the woman retorted. If you dont know whats going on, stay out of it. He almost stole the bouquet!
Well, almost stole, the man raised his voice. You attacked him like a predator! He needs help, not threats. Do you have any conscience?
He turned to Pasha, who was curled in the corner, wiping tears from his cheeks.
Hey, buddy. Im Yura. Whats wrong? You wanted to buy flowers but didnt have enough money?
Pasha sobbed, brushed his nose with his sleeve, and whispered tremblingly:
I wanted to buy calla lilies for Mom She loved them so much She left three years ago Today is her birthday I wanted to go to the cemetery and bring her flowers
Yuras heart tightened. The boys story moved him deeply. He knelt beside him.
Your mother would be proud of you. Not many adults bring flowers on an anniversary, and you, at eight, remember and want to do something kind. Youll grow into a good person.
He faced the seller:
Show me the callas he chose. Ill buy two bouquetsone for him, one for me.
Pasha pointed to the window display where the white callas glowed like porcelain. Yura hesitatedthose were exactly the flowers he had planned to buy. He kept his thoughts to himself: Coincidence or sign?
Soon Pasha left the shop clutching the treasured bouquet, scarcely believing his luck. He turned to the man and shyly offered:
Uncle Yura may I give you my phone number? Ill definitely pay you back. I promise.
The man laughed warmly:
I never doubted youd say that. No need. Today is a special day for a woman dear to me. Ive been waiting for a moment to tell her how I feel, so Im in a good mood. Glad I could do a good deed. Besides, it seems our tastes matchboth your mom and my Ira loved these flowers.
He fell silent for a moment, eyes drifting to the past. He and Ira had been neighbors, living in opposite entrances. They met by chanceonce she was surrounded by troublemakers, and Yura stepped in to defend her. He got a black eye but didnt regret it; that was the beginning of their bond.
Years passed, friendship turned into love, and everyone called them the perfect couple.
When Yura turned eighteen, he was drafted. For Ira it was a blow. Before he left, they spent their first night together.
Service went on until Yura suffered a severe head injury. He awoke in a hospital with no memory, not even his own name.
Ira tried to call, but the line was dead. She thought he had abandoned her, changed her number, and tried to forget the pain.
Months later his memory started to return. Ira resurfaced in his thoughts. He called, but nobody answered. His parents had concealed the truth, telling her that Yura had left.
Back home, Yura decided to surprise Irabought calla lilies and headed to her. He found a different scene: Ira walking arminarm with a man, pregnant, happy.
His heart shattered. He couldnt understand how this could be. Without waiting for explanations, he fled.
That night he left for another city where no one knew his past. He began a new life, but could not forget Ira. He married, hoping for healing, but the marriage failed.
Eight years later, Yura realized he could no longer live with the emptiness inside. He had to find Ira, tell her everything. He returned to his hometown, a bouquet of calla lilies in hand, and there he met Pashaa meeting that might change everything.
Pasha yes, Pasha! Yura recalled, as if waking. He stood by the shop, and the boy was still waiting nearby.
Son, maybe I can give you a ride somewhere? Yura offered gently.
Thanks, no, the boy replied politely. I know how to take the bus. Ive been to Mom before not the first time.
Clutching the bouquet to his chest, he ran toward the bus stop. Yura watched him for a long while. Something about the child awakened memories, an inexplicable connection, almost a kinship. Their paths crossed for a reason; Pasha felt painfully familiar.
When the boy left, Yura headed to the courtyard where Ira had lived. His heart hammered as he approached the entrance and asked an elderly neighbour if she knew Iras whereabouts.
Oh, dear, the neighbour sighed, looking sadly at him. Shes not here any more she died three years ago.
What? Yura recoiled, as if struck.
After marrying Vlad, she never came back. She moved with him. A good soul took her while she was pregnant. Not every man would do that. They loved each other, cared for each other. Then their son was born. And thats it. Shes gone. Thats all I know, son.
Yura left slowly, feeling like a lost ghostlate, lonely, forever too late.
Why did I wait so long? Why didnt I return a year earlier?
The neighbours words echoed: pregnant
Wait. If she was pregnant when she married Vlad could that child be mine?!
His head spun. Somewhere in this city his son might be alive. A fire ignited insidehe had to find him, but first he needed to find Ira.
At the cemetery he quickly found her grave. His heart clenched with painlove, loss, regret flooded him. Even stronger was what lay on the tombstone: a fresh bouquet of white calla lilies, the very ones Ira loved.
Pasha Yura whispered. Its you. Our son. Our child
He stared at Iras photograph on the stone, which seemed to look back, and said softly:
Forgive me for everything.
Tears streamed down his face, but he did not hold them back. Then he turned and ranhe had to return to the house Pasha had pointed to when they stood by the shop. That was his chance.
He hurried to the yard. The boy was on the swing, gently swinging. It turned out that as soon as Pasha got home, his stepmother scolded him for being out too long. He couldnt stand it and fled outside.
Yura approached, sat beside him, and embraced his son tightly.
A man emerged from the entrance. Seeing a stranger with the child, he froze, then recognized him.
Yura he said, almost without surprise. I no longer hoped youd come. I guess you understand that Pasha is your son.
Yes, Yura nodded. I understand. I came for him.
Vlad sighed deeply:
If he wants, I wont stand in his way. I was never really Iras husband, nor Pashas father. She always loved only you. I knew. I thought time would heal it. Before she died, she confessed she wanted to find you, to tell you everythingabout the son, her feelings, about you. She didnt have time.
Yura was silent. His throat tightened, thoughts hammering.
Thank you for accepting him, for not giving him away. He exhaled heavily. Tomorrow Ill gather his things and documents. But now lets just go. I have a lot to learn. Eight years of my sons life lost. I dont want to waste another minute.
He took Pashas hand, and they walked toward the car.
Forgive me, son I didnt even know I had such a wonderful boy
Pasha looked at him calmly and said:
I always knew Vlad wasnt my real dad. When Mom talked about me, she mentioned another man. I knew one day we would meet. And here we are we have met.
Yura lifted his son into his arms and weptrelief, pain, an overwhelming, unbearable love.
Forgive me for taking so long. I will never leave you again.
