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Kostya Kravchuk biography. Kostya Kravchuk

Kostya Kravchuk biography. Kostya Kravchuk

On June 11, 1944, units leaving for the front lined up on the central square of Kyiv. And before this battle formation, they read the Decree of the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet of the USSR on awarding the pioneer Kostya Kravchuk with the Order of the Red Banner for saving and preserving two combat banners of rifle regiments during the occupation of the city of Kiev ... Retreating from Kiev, two wounded soldiers entrusted Kostya with banners. And Kostya promised to keep them. At first I buried it in the garden under a pear tree: it was thought that ours would soon return. But the war dragged on, and, having dug up the banners, Kostya kept them in a barn until he remembered an old, abandoned well outside the city, near the Dnieper. Wrapping his priceless treasure in sacking, covering it with straw, at dawn he got out of the house and with a canvas bag over his shoulder led a cow to a distant forest. And there, looking around, he hid the bundle in the well, covered it with branches, dry grass, turf ... And throughout the long occupation, the pioneer carried his difficult guard at the banner, although he fell into a round-up, and even fled from the train in which the people of Kiev were driven to Germany. When Kyiv was liberated, Kostya, in a white shirt with a red tie, came to the military commandant of the city and unfurled the banners in front of the seen and yet amazed fighters. On June 11, 1944, the newly formed units leaving for the front were given replacements rescued by Kostya.

Lara Mikheenko

For the operation of reconnaissance and explosion of the railway. bridge over the Drissa River, a Leningrad schoolgirl Larisa Mikheenko was presented with a government award. But the Motherland did not have time to present the award to her brave daughter ... The war cut off the girl from her native city: in the summer she went on vacation to the Pustoshkinsky district, but could not return - the Nazis occupied the village. The pioneer dreamed of breaking out of Hitler's slavery, making her way to her own. And one night with two older friends left the village. At the headquarters of the 6th Kalinin brigade, the commander, Major P. V. Ryndin, at first turned out to accept "so small": well, what kind of partisans are they! But how much even its very young citizens can do for the Motherland! The girls were able to do what strong men could not. Dressed in rags, Lara walked around the villages, finding out where and how the guns were located, sentries were placed, what German cars were moving along the highway, what kind of trains and with what cargo they came to the Pustoshka station. She also participated in military operations ... The Nazis shot a young partisan, betrayed by a traitor in the village of Ignatovo. In the Decree on awarding Larisa Mikheenko with the Order of the Patriotic War of the 1st degree, there is a bitter word: "Posthumously."

Vasya Korobko

Chernihiv region. The front came close to the village of Pogoreltsy. On the outskirts, covering the retreat of our units, the company held the defense. The boy brought the cartridges to the fighters. His name was Vasya Korobko. Night. Vasya sneaks up to the school building occupied by the Nazis. He sneaks into the pioneer room, takes out the pioneer banner and hides it securely. Outskirts of the village. Under the bridge - Vasya. He pulls out the iron staples, saws the piles, and at dawn from the shelter he watches the bridge collapse under the weight of the fascist armored personnel carrier. The partisans were convinced that Vasya could be trusted, and they entrusted him with a serious task: to become a scout in the enemy's lair. At the headquarters of the Nazis, he heats stoves, chop wood, and he looks closely, remembers, and transmits information to the partisans. The punishers, who planned to exterminate the partisans, forced the boy to lead them into the forest. But Vasya led the Nazis to an ambush of the police. The Nazis, mistaking them for partisans in the dark, opened furious fire, killed all the policemen and themselves suffered heavy losses. Together with the partisans, Vasya destroyed nine echelons, hundreds of Nazis. In one of the battles, he was hit by an enemy bullet. The Motherland awarded her little hero, who lived a short but such a bright life, with the Orders of Lenin, the Red Banner, Patriotic War 1st class, medal "Partisan of the Patriotic War" 1st class.

... And it was a resident of Kiev, Kostya Kravchuk, only ten years old. Today, we try not to let children of this age go outside alone in the evening, and this is quite understandable and justified. And at school, third-graders are not entrusted with truly responsible affairs, because they are still small. And then, back in 1941, the Soviet soldiers entrusted this boy with a shrine - two battle banners.

It happened on September 19 in Kyiv, which the Germans occupied that day. There were heavy, bloody battles. Our soldiers retreated. And Kostya slowly slipped away from his mother (he lived with her alone, his father died before the war) from the basement where women and children were hiding. It was not idle curiosity that drove the boy out into the street. I thought at least something to help the Red Army. And came across two wounded soldiers. Kostya offered them his help and a house. But the soldiers refused - apparently they did not want to put the family in even more danger. Or their wounds were so severe that it was not possible to do without medical help. The soldiers asked the boy to help another: to save two red banners.

Did they themselves believe at that moment that the precious relic was in safe hands? I think yes. And because the war is not up to games even for small people. And because children are capable of great, and sometimes even huge, deeds - without pathos, sincerely, believing to the last in a way that adults often cannot.

So, Kostya had the banners. They had to find a suitable place where the enemies could not reach. The boy buried the relic in the garden near his house. Managed. If he was ten minutes late, he would have died. Because German boots were already clattering near their house. True, the Nazis did not enter the house itself, they only knocked out several windows.

On the very first day of the occupation, it became clear that a more reliable place was needed. The Germans frightened the people as best they could. If a column of prisoners was led around the city, then, seeing that people were gathering around, the Nazis shot those who were lagging behind or simply snatched someone out of the column and stabbed them with bayonets. They were not allowed to remove the dead - it was a brutal demonstration of strength and power. So the tortured Red Army soldiers lay along the road.

Every day searches were carried out in different houses. And Kostya, who did not even say a word about the banners to his mother, was afraid that the Germans would notice a loose kidney in the garden and guess everything. In addition, it was supposed to rain soon - the fabric would then deteriorate. And at night the boy dug up the banners, put them in a canvas bag, and tarred it. The next day, he hid it in an abandoned well, which was so unsightly in appearance that even the thought could not arise that something could be hidden there at all. Yes, how did he get to this well! The streets were patrolled around the clock. Detained at night - do not expect mercy. So, you need to hide only during the day. Kostya led the cow out, clamped some sticks under his arm, hung the bag over his shoulder - and drove the cow to a distant forest, on the way to which, on the very outskirts, there was a well.

On the way, he now and then met the Nazis. But it never occurred to any of them that a simple shepherd was carrying a precious shrine. That this inconspicuous boy is also helping the Red Army. Helps as best he can, as required at this moment. And if necessary, he will give his life for two banners.

Rarely, but regularly, the boy checked whether the banners were in place. Everything was OK. But once (this was already in 1943) Kostya did not have time to return home before the curfew - however, quite a bit. The policemen grabbed the boy and searched him. They didn't find anything. Apparently, Kostya looked so “unsuspicious” that they didn’t even interrogate him. They decided to "bestow great mercy" - to send to Germany. Together with the rest of the children, they were driven into the train. Imagine: Kostina's mother did not know this. She looked for her son around the city, went to the German commandant's office, but she did not find out anything. And there, in the echelon, the boy was tormented by uncertainty. He imagined his mother - unhappy, frightened, heartbroken - and his heart went cold. Then the imagination drew our Victory. Two rifle regiments - the 968th and 970th - enter Kyiv. They do not have banners, but how without it? And the banners lie very close, in the well. They lie - and will lie for many, many more years, so desperately needed. And no one will know that Kostya fulfilled the request of the fighters ...

At the entrance to one of the stations, when the train slowed down, the boy somehow broke the board and jumped out. The echelon had already left far from Kyiv. And the ten-year-old boy went back along the tracks.

And he did come! What did he eat on the way, how could he stay whole?..

Kostya returned home after his native city had been cleared of the enemy. And as soon as he saw his dumbfounded mother, dried up with grief, he led her to the well. Explained everything along the way. Together they pulled out the banners of the 968th and 970th rifle regiments of the 255th rifle division, together they brought them to our soldiers.

For the salvation of the battle banner, an order is due. It's fair and just. Here and on young hero compiled an award document, and on June 1, 1944, a Decree of the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet of the USSR was signed on awarding Konstantin Kononovich Kravchuk with the Order of the Red Banner.

It was the first Order of the Bone. And the second - already the Red Banner of Labor, appeared after the war, when Konstantin Kononovich (by the way, graduated Suvorov School) worked for the Arsenal plant.

The feat of 10-year-old Konstantin Kononovich Kravchuk, who earned the Order of the Red Banner for him.

Someone may say that it’s business, it’s only 3 years to keep a secret from the Germans about hidden banners. In fact, the captured banners of the enemy have always had an important symbolic meaning, which in the 20th century was played up by the propaganda of almost all countries that had similar military successes associated with the capture of the banners of the defeated enemy units. The Germans at the initial stages of the war, when they took a lot of trophies, liked to be photographed not only against the background of our abandoned and broken equipment, but also showed the captured banners as a symbol of their inevitable victory.

On the topic of captured Soviet banners (military and party banners), you can read here http://skaramanga-1972.livejournal.com/71632.html (and here http://skaramanga-1972.livejournal.com/71277.html on the topic German captured banners)
Then everything went to reverse side and it is no coincidence that the culmination of the Victory Parade, as a bold point in the Great Patriotic War, was precisely the German banners thrown at the foot of the Lenin Mausoleum, which symbolized the final defeat of Germany in the war with the USSR.

The merit of Kostya Kravchuk is that at his young age he kept a piece of our defeat in 1941 and did not let it fall into the hands of the enemy. What is it against the background of those millions of dead and the titanic efforts of the entire people? Just three years to keep your mouth shut. It would seem a trifle. But it was precisely from such "little things" that those who fought at the front, worked in the rear and fought in partisan detachments- just happened our Victory.
I remember this moment at the age of 10, when, while reading the famous book by Smirnov "The Brest Fortress", I was struck by the story of the saved banner of the 393rd separate anti-aircraft artillery division, which, during the defense of the Brest Fortress, was placed in a bucket and in the casemate of the Eastern fort, and found it only in 1956.

In 1955, when articles about defense began to appear in newspapers Brest Fortress, one of the district commissars of the city of Stalinsk-Kuznetsk in Siberia came to a worker of a metallurgical plant, junior sergeant of the reserve Rodion Semenyuk.
- In the forty-first, I fought in the Brest Fortress and buried the banner of our division there, - he explained. -
It must be intact. I remember where it is buried, and if they send me to Brest, I will get it. I have written to you before...
The military commissar was an indifferent person and did not like to do anything that was direct and
not directly prescribed by the authorities. At one time he visited
front, fought well, was wounded, had military awards, but, having got into
office, gradually began to be afraid of everything that violated the usual course
institutional life of the commissariat and went beyond the instructions issued
above. And no instructions on how to deal with banners buried during
The Great Patriotic War, he did not have.
He remembered that indeed a year or a half ago he had received a letter from
this Semenyuk about the same banner, read it, thought and ordered
put in the archive without a response. Moreover, on a personal file kept in
military registration and enlistment office, Rodion Ksenofontovich Semenyuk seemed to the commissar a figure
suspicious. He spent three and a half years in captivity, and then fought in
some partisan unit. The military commissar firmly considered the former prisoners as people
dubious and untrustworthy. Yes, and the instructions that he used to
received in previous years, ordered not to trust those who had been in captivity.

However, now Semenyuk was sitting in front of him personally, and something had to be done.
respond to his statement about the banner.
Glancing discontentedly and frowningly into the open, ingenuous face of a short
and very youthful Semenyuk, the military commissar nodded his head with dignity.
- I remember, I remember, citizen Semenyuk. We read your letter...
We consulted ... This banner of yours has no special meaning now. Like this...
- Why, this is the Brest Fortress, comrade commissar ... - bewildered
Semenyuk objected. - They wrote about her in the newspaper ...
The commissar of the Brest Fortress had the remotest idea, and in
I didn't read anything about her in the papers. But he did not intend to undermine his authority.
- That's right ... they wrote ... I know, I know, citizen Semenyuk ... I saw it. Right
write in the newspapers. Only this is one thing that they write, but here it is another ... You never know
what... that's it, that means...

Semenyuk left the military commissar puzzled and upset. Is it really
battle banner of their 393rd separate anti-aircraft artillery battalion, under
which they fought in the Eastern Fort of the Brest Fortress, no longer has
no significance for the people, for history? It seemed to him that there was something
so, but after all, the military commissar is a person invested with trust, and must know the true
the value of this banner.

Semenyuk often recalled those terrible, tragic days in the Eastern
fort. I remembered how he wore this banner on his chest under his tunic and that's it.
for a while he was afraid that he would be wounded and unconsciously fall into the hands of the enemy,
I remembered a party meeting at which they swore an oath to fight to the end.
And then this terrible bombardment, when earthen ramparts were shaking and from the walls
and bricks fell from the ceilings of the casemates. Then Major Gavrilov ordered
bury the banner so that it does not fall into the hands of the Nazis - it has already become clear that the fort
won't last long.

Three of them buried him - with some infantryman, by the name of Tarasov, and
with a former fellow villager of Semenyuk - Ivan Folvarkov. Folvarkov
even offered to burn the banner, but Semenyuk did not agree. They wrapped him in
tarpaulin, put in a tarpaulin bucket taken from the stables, and then placed
still in a zinc bucket, and so they buried it in one of the casemates. And just managed
do it and throw rubbish on the rammed earth as the fascists broke into
fort. Tarasov was immediately killed, and Folvarkov was captured along with Semenyuk
and died later, in the Nazi camp.

Many times in captivity, and then, after returning to his homeland, Semenyuk
mentally imagined how he would open this banner. He remembered that the casemate
is located in the outer horseshoe-shaped shaft, in its right wing, but I have already forgotten
what is the score from the edge. However, he was sure that he would immediately find it.
room as soon as it arrives. But how to get there?
Only in 1956, having heard on the radio about the defense of the fortress and learning about
meeting the Brest heroes, Semenyuk realized that the district military commissar was wrong, and
wrote directly to Moscow, to the Main Political Directorate of the Ministry
defense. A call immediately came from there - Semenyuk was invited to urgently come
to the capital.

He got to Brest in September, a month after they had been there
defense heroes. The day came when he, accompanied by several officers and
a soldier with shovels and pickaxes entered the horseshoe-shaped courtyard of the East Fort.
Semenyuk was agitated, his hands trembled. Everything affected here - and
memories of the experience here, on this piece of land, and for the first time
the fear that gripped him: “What if I don’t find the banner ?!”
They entered a narrow courtyard between the ramparts. Everyone looked questioningly at
Semenyuk. And he stopped and carefully looked around, trying
collect scattered thoughts and concentrate - remember in all
details of that day, June 30, 1941.

I think it's here! - he said, pointing to the door of one of the casemates.
In the room, he looked around and stamped his foot on the floor.
- Here!
Soldiers with shovels prepared to dig. But he suddenly stopped them:
- Wait!..
And, hurriedly approaching the doors of the casemate, he looked out into the courtyard,
distance from the edge of the shaft. He was shaking nervously.
- No! he finally said decisively. - It's not here. It's nearby.
They moved to the next, exactly the same casemate, and Semenyuk removed
soldier:
- I myself!
He took a shovel and began to dig, hastily and nervously throwing
side of the ground. The soil, which had been compacted for many years, was dense, unyielding.
Semenyuk breathed heavily, sweat rolled off him in hail, but every time he
stopped the soldiers when they wanted to help him. He has to dig it himself
banner, only himself ...
Everyone watched him in tense silence. The pit was already pretty
deep, but Semenyuk said that he buried the bucket at a depth of half a meter.
The officers looked at each other doubtfully.
And he himself was already in despair. Where, where is this flag? It already
should have appeared a long time ago. Did he confuse the casemate - after all, they are all so
similar to each other? Or maybe the banner was dug up by the Germans then, at forty
first?

And suddenly, when he was ready to stop working, the blade of a shovel
there was a distinct tinkle against the metal, and the edge of some kind of
metal disk.
It was the bottom of a zinc bucket. He immediately remembered that then, at forty
first, they did not put the bundle in the bucket, but closed it on top: in case
if the casemate were destroyed, the bucket would protect the banner from rain and melt water,
percolating from the surface of the earth.
Everyone bent over the pit in excitement. And Semenyuk feverishly fast
dug out a bucket and finally pulled it out of the ground.
Memory did not fail - the bundle with the banner was here, where he left it with
comrades fifteen years ago. But did the banner itself survive? Zinc
the bucket shone through like a sieve - it was all corroded by salts
earth.
With trembling hands he took the second, canvas, bucket, which lay under
zinc. It crumbled to dust, completely decayed over the years. Under it was
the thinner canvas in which they then wrapped the banner. He also withered and
was falling apart in tatters while Semenyuk hurriedly opened the bundle. And now
the red matter shone red and the letters flashed with gold...

Cautiously, Semenyuk touched the cloth with his finger. No, the banner has not decayed, it
preserved perfectly.
Then he slowly unfolded it and, straightening it, raised it above his head. On
the red cloth was gilded with the inscription: "Proletarians of all countries, unite!" AND
below: "393rd Separate Anti-Aircraft Artillery Battalion". Everyone stood silently
gazing fascinated at this battle relic, recovered from the earth later
one and a half decades. Semenyuk carefully handed over the banner to one of the officers and
climbed out of the hole. He could not feel his feet under him for joy.
And the next day in the central courtyard of the fortress lined up a solemn
the structure of the military unit located here. To the sounds of the orchestra, clearly
printing a step, a standard-bearer passed in front of the formation, and a scarlet banner curled behind
him in the wind. And after this banner, another one moved along the line, but already
without a shaft. He was carried on outstretched arms by a short, youthful man in
civilian clothes, and the silently frozen ranks of soldiers saluted this
the glorious banner of the heroes of the Brest Fortress, fanned by the smoke of fierce battles for
Motherland, the banner that was carried past them by a man who fought with him on
chest and preserved it for posterity.

The banner of the 393rd division, found by Rodion Semenyuk, was handed over
then to the Museum of the Defense of the Brest Fortress, where it is now kept. Sam Semenyuk
at the same time he came from Brest to Minsk, visited there at the reception of the deputy
commander of the Belorussian military district, and later visited me in Moscow and
told about how he found the banner. A year later, when the Soviet
the government awarded the heroes of defense, the noble metallurgist of Kuzbass Rodion
Semenyuk received the Order of the Red for saving the battle banner of his unit.
Banner.
Perhaps some readers will want to ask me the question: how
feels like a district military commissar who, with such a stupid, bureaucratic
reacted with indifference to Semenyuk's message about the banner and declared him "not having
meaning"? I think that he is now of a different opinion. I called him
name in the Department of Defense, and I was informed that this soulless and
the narrow-minded official received a severe reprimand.

Therefore, in its symbolic meaning, the feat of Kostya Kravchuk is equivalent to the feat of those soldiers who, even at the cost of their lives, sought to prevent our banners from falling into the enemy. And that's why it was so highly rated.

The feat of 10-year-old Konstantin Kononovich Kravchuk, who earned the Order of the Red Banner for him.

On the topic of captured Soviet banners (military and party banners), you can read here http://skaramanga-1972.livejournal.com/71632.html (and here http://skaramanga-1972.livejournal.com/71277.html on the topic German captured banners)
Then everything went in the opposite direction and it is no coincidence that the culmination of the Victory Parade, as a fat point in the Great Patriotic War, was precisely the German banners thrown at the foot of the Lenin Mausoleum, which symbolized the final defeat of Germany in the war with the USSR.

The merit of Kostya Kravchuk is that at his young age he kept a piece of our defeat in 1941 and did not let it fall into the hands of the enemy. What is it against the background of those millions of dead and the titanic efforts of the entire people? Just three years to keep your mouth shut. It would seem a trifle. But just from such “little things” that were put together in a common foundation by those who fought at the front, worked in the rear and fought in partisan detachments, our Victory was formed.
I remember this moment at the age of 10, when, while reading the famous book by Smirnov "The Brest Fortress", I was struck by the story of the saved banner of the 393rd separate anti-aircraft artillery division, which, during the defense of the Brest Fortress, was placed in a bucket and in the casemate of the Eastern fort, and found it only in 1956.

In 1955, when articles about defense began to appear in newspapers Brest Fortress, one of the district commissars of the city of Stalinsk-Kuznetsk in Siberia came to a worker of a metallurgical plant, junior sergeant of the reserve Rodion Semenyuk.
“In 1941, I fought in the Brest Fortress and buried the banner of our division there,” he explained. —
It must be intact. I remember where it is buried, and if they send me to Brest, I will get it. I have written to you before...
The military commissar was an indifferent person and did not like to do anything that was direct and
not directly prescribed by the authorities. At one time he visited
front, fought well, was wounded, had military awards, but, having got into
office, gradually began to be afraid of everything that violated the usual course
institutional life of the commissariat and went beyond the instructions issued
above. And no instructions on how to deal with banners buried during
The Great Patriotic War, he did not have.
He remembered that indeed a year or a half ago he had received a letter from
this Semenyuk about the same banner, read it, thought and ordered
put in the archive without a response. Moreover, on a personal file kept in
military registration and enlistment office, Rodion Ksenofontovich Semenyuk seemed to the commissar a figure
suspicious. He spent three and a half years in captivity, and then fought in
some partisan unit. The military commissar firmly considered the former prisoners as people
dubious and untrustworthy. Yes, and the instructions that he used to
received in previous years, ordered not to trust those who had been in captivity.

However, now Semenyuk was sitting in front of him personally, and something had to be done.
respond to his statement about the banner.
Glancing discontentedly and frowningly into the open, ingenuous face of a short
and very youthful Semenyuk, the military commissar nodded his head with dignity.
“I remember, I remember, Citizen Semenyuk. We read your letter...
We consulted ... This banner of yours has no special meaning now. Like this…
- Why, this is the Brest Fortress, Comrade Commissar ... - confused
Semenyuk objected. - They wrote about her in the newspaper ...
The commissar of the Brest Fortress had the remotest idea, and in
I didn't read anything about her in the papers. But he did not intend to undermine his authority.
- That's right ... they wrote ... I know, I know, citizen Semenyuk ... I saw it. Right
write in the newspapers. Only this is one thing that they write, but here it is another ... You never know
that... that's it, that means...

He got to Brest in September, a month after they had been there
defense heroes. The day came when he, accompanied by several officers and
a soldier with shovels and pickaxes entered the horseshoe-shaped courtyard of the East Fort.
Semenyuk was agitated, his hands trembled. It all had an effect - and
memories of the experience here, on this piece of land, and for the first time
the fear that gripped him: “What if I don’t find the banner ?!”
They entered a narrow courtyard between the ramparts. Everyone looked questioningly at
Semenyuk. And he stopped and carefully looked around, trying
collect scattered thoughts and concentrate - remember in all
details of that day, June 30, 1941.

- In my opinion, here! he said, pointing to the door of one of the casemates.
In the room, he looked around and stamped his foot on the floor.
- Here!
Soldiers with shovels prepared to dig. But he suddenly stopped them:
- Wait! ..
And, hurriedly approaching the doors of the casemate, he looked out into the courtyard,
distance from the edge of the shaft. He was shaking nervously.
- No! he finally said decisively. - It's not here. It's nearby.
They moved to the next, exactly the same casemate, and Semenyuk removed
soldier:
— I myself!
He took a shovel and began to dig, hastily and nervously throwing
side of the ground. The soil, which had been compacted for many years, was dense, unyielding.
Semenyuk breathed heavily, sweat rolled off him in hail, but every time he
stopped the soldiers when they wanted to help him. He has to dig it himself
banner, only himself ...
Everyone watched him in tense silence. The pit was already pretty
deep, but Semenyuk said that he buried the bucket at a depth of half a meter.
The officers looked at each other doubtfully.
And he himself was already in despair. Where, where is this flag? It already
should have appeared a long time ago. Has he confused the casemate - after all, they are all so
similar to each other? Or maybe the banner was dug up by the Germans then, at forty
first?

http://lib.ru/PRIKL/SMIRNOW/brest.txt - Smirnov "Brest Fortress".

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Konstantin Kravchuk

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Name at birth:	Kravchuk, Konstantin Kononovich
Occupation:	schoolboy
Date of Birth:
Citizenship:
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Awards and prizes:
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Kravchuk Konstantin Kononovich(born 1931) - Soviet schoolboy, pioneer. Known for the fact that, risking his life and the lives of his loved ones, he saved and preserved during the fascist occupation the banners of the 968th and 970th rifle regiments of the 255th rifle division. The youngest holder of the Order of the Red Banner.

Biography

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Notes

Literature

Anna Pecherskaya. Children - Heroes of the Great Patriotic War. - M.: Drofa-Plus, 2010. - ISBN 978-5-9555-1438-3

An excerpt characterizing Kravchuk, Konstantin Kononovich

“So I can see her there?” she murmured happily.
- Of course, Alinushka. So you should just be a patient girl and help your mom now if you love her so much.
- What should I do? – the little girl asked very seriously.
“Just think about her and remember her because she sees you. And if you don't be sad, your mom will finally find peace.
“Does she see me now?” the girl asked, and her lips began to twitch treacherously.
- Yes Dear.
She was silent for a moment, as if gathering inside, and then she clenched her fists tightly and whispered softly:
- I will be very good, dear mommy ... you go ... please go ... I love you so much! ..
Tears rolled down her pale cheeks in large peas, but her face was very serious and concentrated ... Life for the first time dealt her a cruel blow and it seemed as if this little girl, so deeply wounded, suddenly realized something for herself in an adult way and now I tried to take it seriously and openly. My heart was breaking with pity for these two unfortunate and so sweet creatures, but, unfortunately, I could not help them any more ... The world around them was so incredibly bright and beautiful, but for both it could no longer be their common world. ..
Life is sometimes very cruel, and we never know what the meaning of the pain or loss that has been prepared for us is. Apparently, it is true that without losses it is impossible to comprehend what, by right or by a lucky chance, fate gives us. Only now, what could this unfortunate girl, cowering like a wounded animal, comprehend when the world suddenly collapsed on her with all its cruelty and pain of the most terrible loss in life? ..
I sat with them for a long time and tried my best to help them both find at least some peace of mind. I remembered my grandfather and the terrible pain that his death brought me ... How terrible it must have been for this fragile, unprotected baby to lose the most precious thing in the world - her mother? ..
We never think about the fact that those who, for one reason or another, are taken from us by fate, experience the consequences of their death much deeper than we do. We feel the pain of loss and suffer (sometimes even angry) that they left us so ruthlessly. But what is it like for them when their suffering is multiplied a thousand times, seeing how we suffer from this?! And how helpless must a person feel, not being able to say anything more and change anything? ..
I would have given a lot then to find at least some opportunity to warn people about this. But, unfortunately, I didn’t have such an opportunity ... Therefore, after the sad visit of Veronica, I began to look forward to when I could help someone else. And life, as it always usually happened, was not long in coming.
Entities came to me day and night, young and old, male and female, and all asked to help them talk to their daughter, son, husband, wife, father, mother, sister ... This continued in an endless stream, until, in the end, I I felt that I had no more strength. I didn’t know that when I came into contact with them, I had to be sure to close myself with my (and very strong!) Protection, and not open emotionally, like a waterfall, gradually giving them all my life force, which at that time, to Unfortunately, I didn't know how to make up.