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Jun 4, 2018 15:15
Ivan was a vagabond. He was born sometime in 40s. I don’t know where and how he became an orphan. It was the bleak time: the WW2 exhausted resources of country, the European part of the country was ruined by the war, many people were died. There hardly wasn’t a family not touching by the war. So, Ivan was on road. He wandered in Kazakhstan and joined to a Kazakh household, when he was about 20 years old. This family had been living in a village, somewhere in South moved in my town and Ivan vent with them. The family get big - five sons and a daughter (the youngest of the sons was my classmate). Ivan was both a worker and babysitter. He wasn’t a slave, nobody kept him chained. He had no a pass. He hadn’t education and profession (my father went in the town around the same time after an orphanage, mustering out from army, having only military uniform and uncompleted education; my mother was born in the town and she hardly had more). He got used to his live. It gave to him some advantages: he had a roof over his head and some freedom. Sometimes, when Ivan would get pickled, someone who saw him, told to the family, “Your Ivan are lying there” and the father sent someone from his sons to bring Ivan to home. When Ivan got old, the father made a pass for Ivan and Ivan even was receiving a pension from state. But, the end of Ivan’s story is sad. The father died about 10 years ago, and Ivan got homeless again. Whether the old man got a burden for the children or he got completed drunkard, as they said – I don’t know. I don’t want to calumniate anybody. I saw once or twice Ivan spending the night on the stairwell of my apartment house, where lived on of the sons then – he went around from one place to others. I don’t know where he is now.
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