and put the oatmeal in once it boiled. She stirred quickly to keep it smooth and noticed the children were watching her every move.
«Hungry?» She asked with a smile.
The children didn’t respond, they were quiet and looked at each other for assurances on not speaking.
Maria felt drawn to them, their innocence and bright eyes full of curiosity. She took the pot to their table and began filling their bowls with oatmeal. «Kak tebya zovut? She asked the little girl.
The children remained shy and did not respond to her. They began eating and kept their eyes on their food. Each of them started to blow on their spoonful’s waiting for it to cool.
«Oh!» Maria said realizing it was too hot. «Do you have milk or butter?» she said, walking to the stove to look for it.
Oxana pointed her in the direction of the milk and eggs. Maria brought both back to the table and added them to the bowls. «Does anyone here like cinnamon?» She asked in a voice that reminded her of her mother’s.
Maria looked toward Oksana curiously as if she may have done something wrong. «They are shy with strangers and so many coming and going around here,» Oksana said with a glance of understanding as she handed Maria a small roll of cinnamon bark.
One of the boys pushed his bowl toward her and waited as he watched her. Maria felt excited, it was the first sign of communicating with them. She reached for a knife and scraped the cinnamon flakes into the bowl.
«Spacibo,» he said softly as he began to eat again.
«Pozhalysta,» Maria giggled as she brushed her hand over his head.
Maria stood and remembered she had not put any honey in the oatmeal. She looked around the kitchen and spotted a small ceramic pot sitting by the stove. She returned to the children’s table and taunted them playfully, «I don’t suppose anyone here likes honey?» she said.
All three children stopped eating and pushed their bowls forward immediately.
Maria giggled as she removed the top of the jar and lifted the wooden comb spoon inside as the honey dripped slowly from the combs. «Oh look how dark it is, this is the best honey!» She said as she drizzled some on each child’s oatmeal.
The children smiled and happily began mixing the honey into their oatmeal, continuing to devour it.
Maria reached for a bowl and set with the children while she ate her breakfast. She began to realize these children were probably born in this Tavern, not knowing who their father might be. It was such a different existence than what she had known growing up on a farm. She could not imagine what her life would have been like without her father. And at that moment she felt the cold reality sweeping over, that now she would be as these children were now, facing a life without the protection and care she had lost in Rostov. She looked at their innocent faces and quickly wiped her tears away, repeating to herself to focus on moving forward.
There was a knock at the front door as Tanya went to see who it was. She returned with Sergei, who looked like he was in a hurry to leave. His eyes were wide, and he stood as near the door as possible.
The ladies offered him breakfast, but he refused quickly.
«Are we going to miss the boat?» asked Maria as she stood, preparing to leave.
«Net, we have enough time, but if any of my wife’s friends see me here, I will be a dead man in the morning,» Sergei said in a nervous tone.
Oksana and Tanya burst into laughter as Maria smiled and turned to say goodbye.
«Thank you for your hospitality and kindness, I appreciate everything you have done for me,» Maria said as she picked up her things.
Oxana noticed her linen wrapped around Maria’s things. «Wait, I have a sack here…» she said sifting through her potato bin, «It’s not fancy, but it’s clean.»
Maria smiled, delighted to have the white linen sack to carry her belongings in. Everything fit perfectly, and the cinch cord made it easier to carry.
«Poka detii,» she said sweetly to the children as they looked up at her, not understanding why she was leaving so soon.
Maria and Sergei walked towards the door as Oxana followed them.
«Oksana will you please tell my cousin Dima that I have left for Neva and will wait for my mother there?» Maria asked.
«Of course, he should be here at the same time next week,» Oksana replied.
«Meanwhile, he handed me this before he left. I believe it’s for… the unexpected» Oksana whispered without Sergei hearing as she placed a bag of coins in Maria’s hand. «No reason for anyone to know you have that, dear.»
Maria smiled and nodded, understanding Oksana’s advice as she carefully hid the bag of coins in the potato sack.
Dima opened the door and walked outside onto the porch as Maria followed. Suddenly the little boy she had given the cinnamon to ran onto the porch and wrapped his arms around Maria’s waist. He did not say a word, he only held her tightly for a moment then ran back inside. Maria only had a moment to pat his head before he was gone. She looked toward Oksana in astonishment.
«They don’t get treated very kindly in this town, thank you for making them feel special,» Oksana said with a quivering voice.
Maria hugged Oxana and felt the warmth of her heart.
«You know, there is a place like this in my town, and I thought the people there were so…» Maria began.
Oxana stopped her and smiled, «Nothing in life is as it seems dear. God speed you on your way.»
Oksana turned and quickly walked inside, clearly feeling the emotions of the moment.
Maria watched as the door closed, and she realized how much she had learned about life, people and even herself in this unassuming little tavern. She wished she could have stayed longer but accepted that her journey must continue.
Maria continued with Sergei down the street where a carriage was waiting.
«We have to board a ship on the other side of the harbor where the Tatars control the ships. It’s likely they are looking for you from what I was told, so… put this on, you’re my wife if anyone asks.» Sergei said as he handed Maria a kerchief while they climbed aboard the carriage.
The streets of Yaroslavl were quite different from Rostov. Maria admired the larger buildings and smooth streets. The energy was different in the city, there seems to be more possibility for a future life. She began to imagine how Neva must be even more impressive and have even more to offer.
Sergei handed Maria a small bag of coins, «Dima said these are for expenses.»
Maria nodded in confusion. Why would he give money to Sergei and Oxana for the same reason? Then she remembered when her cousin had paid Oxana for her stay in the Tavern. She realized Oksana had chosen to give the money to her instead. She remembered back in the tavern, and how Oxana had taken risks to help her. In a world where the rich exploited the innocent, she had experienced generosity and kindness from those with the least to share and most to lose.
Kupala
The carriage slowed to a stop as it pulled alongside a large single sail ship, tied to the dock in Yaroslavl. There were pockets in the sides where boat oars could be extended, and each board of the vessel was glued together with an acrid black tar. The ship was taking on cargo, as barrel after barrel was rolled up a plank on the side. The name Kupala was carved into the forward side and across the back in large letters. Maria recognized the name from mythical stories she had heard as a child. Each summer there were festivals where maidens engaged in rituals with flowers and water celebrating traditions in the name of Kupala, but Maria’s parents were Christian and forbid her from taking part in such things.
Maria exited the carriage and looked up to admire