grandmother was leading by a large margin, as if she herself sent the clouds of the right color and shape.
Later, the whole family discussed how they should make a new couch and how to better enlarge the living room: to widen it on the side of the front door, or by enlarging the windows across the room. That‘s how it was usually done when a child grew up in an angel family – luckily, houses made out of clouds could easily be enlarged and remodeled in any way you please.
“And now it’s time to thank our beautiful butterflies, say good-bye to them, and let them go,” said the grandmother all of a sudden, and started flying towards the window. “We will open the windows and ask the wind to take care of them.”
“But… why? Why do we need to say good-bye? What happened?” Fanyasha was about to burst into tears. “I thought they would sleep, and tomorrow they would fly again, and we’ll play together again. Why? Why do we need to let them go?”
“Efania, dear, please understand, these butterflies won’t fly anymore. The lived a wonderful day and their time has come,” the father explained in a calm voice. “Everything in this world has its time, everything eventually ends, and we need to accept this with gratitude.”
Fanyasha pressed against her mother, trying to hold back tears but they streamed down her cheeks nonetheless.
This was the first time in her life she found out that everything ends, that we need to be able to bid farewell and let go. It was unbearably painful and sad, but at the same time she felt a quiet joy that she was maturing, and that she was finally trusted with secrets of this extraordinary, mysterious world of adults.
Grandmother flung the windows open, whispered something under her nose, stretched her right hand forward, spread her long fingers and traced three circles in the air. At that time, the room filled with a strong cold wind. The curtains flew up and twisted; the wind lifted and whirled thousands of small colorful butterflies, and then led them outside one after another.
Chapter 5:
A Person will be Born Specially for You
From the moment Fanyasha saw the house, she became more joyful and free in her movements. Now she did not need to spend all of her time in her room, she could easily go out into the corridor and then slide down into the living room.
The world became wider for her and gleamed with new colors. How much she enjoyed helping her mother decorate the renovated living room with new lace curtains and colorful throw pillows. How fun it was to watch Bosya and her father puffing and groaning while widening the corridor, which they did by putting their feet against each other and pushing the walls apart with their bodies. Sometimes her parents were delayed at work, and Fanyasha would fall asleep in her father’s large armchair listening to the magical tales of her grandmother.
Fanyasha also loved to stop half way down to the living room and look at the family photos on the walls, while holding onto the bookshelves.
There was her grandmother in her youth with long loose curly hair and a charming smile holding Fanyasha’s mother in her arms. And there was a photo of her father, taken in flight, against the background of their house, looking so slender, handsome and, as always, serious. On one picture, Fanyasha saw little Bosya on the lap of a tall silver haired man in a blue coat with big brown eyes. So this is what grandfather looked like. She wondered when he was going to return. Fanyasha really wanted him to finally see his good and talented granddaughter grow up. Next to that was an incredibly beautiful shot – the scarlet red sky during sunset, with her mother and father sitting on a cloud hugging each other and looking into the distance.
And here was Fanyasha, so small, wrapped in a golden cloth in the arms of her mother, her father next to her, and Bosya peeking behind his father’s back. And next was the picture of happy grandmother in a wide green dress, holding her hands up and catching a laughing Fanyasha. And next to that she was constructing a new pillow out of clouds in her room.
“Wow!” whispered Fanyasha with a glad smile. “I even have my own baby pictures!”
It was funny that Fanyasha decided to consider herself an adult after her sixth birthday, and the experience with the butterflies.
“I wonder who took all those pictures.” She tried to remember if she saw anybody at the time the photographs were taken, but could not.
“I will need to question Bosya,” she decided, and tried to fly higher in order to study the other pictures.
Alas, it was unbearably difficult. She felt that as she rose higher up the corridor, the air became heavier and the wind became stronger, and it was harder to fly. She could barely reach Bosya’s room and sat down next to the door. She didn’t have the strength to fly higher, but it was probably very interesting up there.
She caught her breath and started to peer upwards with interest. She saw doors to her mother’s and father’s rooms, and a little higher up a green door to her grandmother’s room.
“Hey, and who is that over there? Next to mommy and daddy?”
Unfamiliar people stared at her from the pictures that hung on the walls next to
her parents’ rooms. Moreover, mother and father smiled joyfully, standing behind their backs, and even hugged them in some photos! These strangers were half the height of her parents, dressed in strange colorful cloths, and their faces were not beautiful, they had such small eyes and… oh, how horrible, they didn’t have wings on their backs! Why were her parents with them? Who are these beings? What if these strange wingless creatures are people! Bosya mentioned that every angel would need to dedicate its life to a person. But how come? Why are these people the way they are?
Fanyasha became dizzy from excitement; she swayed and grabbed the door handle of her brother’s room in order not to fall.
The door opened. Bosya wasn’t there.
Below, on his table, Fanyasha saw a large golden book, that same one that was writing in itself when Bosya was studying. On the cover, the emerald letters traced:
THE BOOK OF LIFE
PERSON: PHILLIP LOURIE
Dare of birth: 11.27.1970
Date of death: _____________
ANGEL: BORISEY AROS
Date of death? So people die? Like the butterflies? What if angels also die?
Fanyasha squinted, then covered her face with her hands and shook her head. She felt that for her it was enough new information for today. After all, she was just a little ten-year-old girl.
She shut the door, sneaked into her room, sat in from of the mirror, grabbed the hairbrush, loosened her braids and starting brushing her long curly hair. The grandmother said that a woman could calm herself down and get rid of heavy thoughts this way.
“Fanyasha, dear,” she heard her mother’s soft voice, and felt her gently stroking Fanyasha’s head. “You fell asleep, darling. Today your brother graduated from the High School of Angels. Let’s go and congratulate him.”
In Bosya’s room, her father and grandmother listened to the details of his day with pleasure. With atypical excitement,
