Svetlana sat on a bench outside the maternity hospital, her heart heavy with regret. Maybe it would have been easier to leave the baby to the state’s care. But when her partner vanished after learning of the pregnancy, she had no choice. He turned out to be a married man, looking only for a passing amusement.
She couldn’t abandon her child. Yet now, because of her hesitation, the baby risked growing up without warmth or food. Through tears, Svetlana gazed at the tiny nose peeking from beneath the blanket.
Her own life had been marked by loss. Her parents died early, and six months later their house burned down—firefighters blamed old wiring. With nowhere else to turn, she went to her father’s sister, only to be met with coldness. The aunt already had three children and little patience for another mouth to feed.
Svetlana found a job and hoped for the best. Then she met Saveliy—a handsome man with a fancy car. When her aunt learned of him, she demanded Svetlana leave. Saveliy helped her find a dorm room, but even that shelter was lost now.
Wiping tears from her cheeks, Svetlana struggled to gather her thoughts. What was next?
Behind some bushes, two nurses emerged for a smoke break.
“Did you see how Tamara Ivanovna’s husband picked her up today?” one whispered.
“Yes. I feel so sorry for her. Such a good doctor, yet she lost her child and can never have another. And still, she delivers babies every day.”
“I don’t know how she does it.”
“They waited so long for that pregnancy. Over forty, and they built that beautiful house…”
Svetlana looked down at her son and whispered, “Forgive me. I hope it all works out like I dreamed.”
She headed to a nearby church, spending nearly an hour in silent tears. Only when the baby fussed did she leave, deciding to walk.
In the park, she watched ducks but couldn’t stay long. Families with children played nearby—she realized she wouldn’t be able to teach her son to play ball or stroll through these paths together. Her life felt over, yet her heart remained tied to the child.
Dusk settled. Svetlana stood before a new house with a green roof. The windows glowed warmly, but no one was visible. She kissed the baby gently and, choking back sobs, approached the porch.
On it, she placed a box she had found at the dump. Inside lay the infant, who immediately began to cry. She squeezed her eyes shut as his wails pierced her heart.
She pressed the doorbell and held it down, then ran away. Hiding behind a tree, she listened as a man’s voice called:
“Tamara, come here quickly!”
Svetlana clenched her jacket sleeve, fighting the urge to scream and run back.
A woman appeared, gently picking up the baby.
“Tolya, come inside quickly!”
The door closed, and the cries faded.
Exhausted, Svetlana slumped by the tree. She didn’t know how long she sat before waking to darkness. There was nothing left for her here. Her documents felt meaningless in her pocket.
An hour later, she reached the highway. Thirty minutes after that, a truck stopped. The elderly driver headed north; she said she needed to go that way, too.
“Matvey, how wonderful to see you!” a woman exclaimed as her son hugged her.
“Mom, stop sitting in the heat. You know your blood pressure.”
“Oh, enough of that! Where’s my sunshine?”
A young woman stepped out holding a toddler. The boy, about two, perked up instantly.
“Ba!”
“Come here, my joy!” Tamara Ivanovna opened her arms.
Her daughter-in-law smiled. “You’re babysitting for two days—we get a little break with Matvey.”
Tamara laughed warmly. “Enjoy the rest! I only get to see my grandson once a month.”
Matvey winked. “We’ll rest, for sure. I brought fishing rods—planning to teach Vera to fish. How’s the river? Still flowing?”
“Fishing?” Vera snorted. “There’s no fish left. You’d better help with the preserves. Remember how we used to make jams with your mom?”
Matvey sighed dramatically. “Caught red-handed! Alright, I’ll fix the fence. Pashka called yesterday, wondering how things are.”
The day slipped by. Matvey smiled slyly, hiding the true reason for their visit—a three-week vacation. Since his father’s death, his mother had changed, though she masked her pain.
Matvey, a renowned doctor, had risen quickly, overseeing complex surgeries and deliveries. He started here before moving to a new perinatal center. Vera, an accountant at the same hospital, was his life partner. Their busy lives rarely allowed visits to family, but now they made time.
One evening, the family gathered for a barbecue. Andrey, their son, played happily in the sandbox. Matvey and his childhood friend Pashka discussed roof repairs and Pavel’s house project.
Tamara Ivanovna busied herself in the kitchen, feigning annoyance at the men but glowing with happiness. Family moments were rare.
“Mom, we have news,” Matvey announced.
“What news, son?”
“Wait, I want to see your reaction first,” he teased, tapping her with a towel. “We’re staying for three weeks!”
Tamara sat, stunned. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? This is wonderful!”
Tears of joy slid down her cheeks.
Matvey asked, concerned, “Mom, why are you crying?”
“Happy tears, dear,” she smiled.
Their conversation was interrupted by a woman at the gate.
“Hello! Are you here to visit? Please, come in. Mom’s home,” Matvey said.
The woman hesitated, then approached. “Sorry to intrude.”
Vera noticed Tamara Ivanovna suddenly pale and clutch her chest.
“Tamara, are you okay?” Vera rushed over.
Matvey and Pashka helped her inside, checking her blood pressure and giving her a sedative.
When she recovered, Matvey went outside.
“Where did that woman go?” he asked.
“She disappeared as soon as Tamara felt better,” Vera replied. “No idea who she was. Maybe an old acquaintance?”
“Maybe a distant relative,” Matvey guessed.
Vera exchanged a look with Pavel.
“How can you be sure?” she asked.
“Her features look familiar,” Vera mused. “Look in the mirror—you two could be mother and son.”
Matvey laughed. “I swear, it’s uncanny.”
Sitting on the bench, he wondered aloud, “Could she be connected to my biological parents? But why haven’t I ever seen her?”
Tamara’s voice stopped him.
“No, she’s not related to us or your father. But to you… she is your real mother.”
Matvey turned pale; Vera gripped his hand.
“Who?” she whispered.
Tamara sighed. “I’ve kept this secret a long time. We dreamed of a child, but fate was cruel. Losing our own baby broke me. Then one night, someone left a note at the door: ‘Please give him what I cannot. Give him happiness.’”
“At the time, with our standing in town, we took it as a sign. We moved districts to avoid questions. Everyone believed you were ours. I love you deeply—you’ve always been precious. But Svetlana… she didn’t leave you by choice. Half a year ago, she found me and told her story. It wasn’t her fault.”
After a pause, Matvey asked, “Mom, should I meet her?”
Vera squeezed his shoulder. “Yes. You need to.”
“But where?” he wondered.
Pasha pointed toward the gate. “She’s standing by that tree, crying.”
Matvey rose, confused but drawn forward.
“Hello. We need to talk,” he said.
The woman looked up, frightened, then softly touched his shoulder.
“I don’t want anything from you, Matvey. Just listen…”
Three years later, Matvey stood in the yard surrounded by family.
“Mom! Where is everyone? Round up the grandkids!” he called.
Andrey jumped from the car, followed by Vera carrying their daughter. Svetlana and Tamara Ivanovna ran to meet them.
“We were on the lookout all day! Still late!” laughed Tamara.
Svetlana had bought a nearby house. Their cautious relationship blossomed into friendship. Now they shared grandchildren and stories—Tamara reminiscing about Matvey’s childhood, Svetlana recounting her struggles.
They had forged a new, strong family.
Matvey often joked, “Who would’ve thought? I’m a doctor helping mothers bring life into the world, yet I have two mothers—and my children have three grandmothers. Life is full of surprises.”
