Ficus Leaf

Valentina Sementsova

A FICUS LEAF

Stories about War

Saint Petersburg2025

Content

llustration by Rodionova Irina Sergeevna

Introduction

A Ficus Leaf

My Little Friend

A Riddle

The Thief

Let It Be Light

Heroic Deeds

Scary things

The book was translated by the students of the Gymnasium 192 named after Jacob Bruce, Saint Petersburg, Russia. The project was supervised by the teaches: Tatiana Nikolaevna Gresserova, Olga Protalievna Kachanova, Irina Sergeevna Rodionova, Yulia Vladimirovna Sokolova.

The Beauty Queen

Raspberry the Berry

Happiness

Conclusion

Introduction

Translated by Serafima Antonova , class 9a

For some reason I remember one of the first air raid alarms. The bomb shelter where my mother and I ran was dug into the ground. It had a planked floor and benches along the walls. We sat on the bench for a long time, with our legs crossed, as there was water below. It was impossible to move, and I quickly got tired of it. I found solace in two pillowcases, one with sugar cubes, the other with sushki (small crunchy sweet bread rings), which my mother took from home. On the eve of the war, my parents were getting ready to go on vacation and bought sugar and sushki in advance so that they could drink tea from the samovar in the evening. We didn’t go to this bomb shelter anymore, because it was a pity to leave my sick grandmother at home alone. As the Germans were so close, the shells flew over our house and exploded. The last air raid alarm was announced when I was already in first grade, in the fall of 1944.

To the residents of besieged Leningrad, my nieces and goddaughters

The Great Patriotic War commenced on June 22, 1941, with the fascists swiftly advancing towards Leningrad (St. Petersburg) and surrounding the city. The majority of factories and residents were evacuated inland for safety, while some individuals either could not or chose not to leave. The city faced daily bombardments from German artillery and bombs were dropped from airplanes, leading to extensive damage and fires. The radio announced: “Air raid alert!” People sought refuge in basements or designated bomb shelters until the air raid warning cleared, but this did not always save. Many people were killed or injured.

* * * For a deeper insight into the experiences of children living in besieged Leningrad, read this book. These are the memories of a little girl Valya, who wasn’t four years old when the war began. Her father served in the frontlines against the Nazis as an anti-aircraft gunner. The family was unable to leave because the old grandmother had a broken leg. Valya’s mother got a job at the Kirov plant, repairing tanks and making shells. In the fall, my grandmother died Valya spent her days alone at home while her mother was at work.

Our teacher and I went down to the school basement. She was telling something but soon it became quiet, and we were allowed to return to the classroom and continue our studies. In the autumn of 1941, warehouses with food supplies burned down, creating a looming threat of famine in the city surrounded by the Nazis. Rations were distributed through cards, that is, coupons, in limited quantities, with the food supply diminishing over time, leading to starvation and suffering among the population. People began to die of hunger. The siege of Leningrad lasted 900 days.

A Ficus Leaf

llustration by Serafima Antonova

Translated by Serafima Antonova , class 9a

Have you ever tried eating plant leaves? Most likely you have. Lettuce, cabbage, dill, and other types of leaves are not only delicious but also nutritious. However, not all leaves are safe to eat. Some may be toxic while others might have no taste at all. So, where did the title of my first story come from? During the war, my family lived in a two-story apartment building on Ogorodny Lane near the Kirov factory. In our room, there was a large ficus tree growing in a pot. When my mother went to work, she locked me in the room with my toys. I spent my days playing with my toys and quickly eating the food she left for me. One day, a leaf fell from the ficus tree. It was big, leathery, and green with a white droplet on its petiole. I was curious and tasted it, but it was bitter. However, it had a delightful smell of greenery that I couldn't resist…

Have you seen how hamsters and rabbits chew food? They bite off small pieces with their front teeth and do not chew them. That’s how I gnawed a ficus leaf and was almost full. After some time, I tore off the leaf myself and chewed it too. My tired mother, returning from work in the evening, did not notice anything and I didn’t tell her anything, I was afraid that she would punish me.

consider writing to the Guinness Book of Records - I might be the only person in the world to have eaten a ficus tree, even though there are no witnesses left to attest to it.

As you can guess, the next day I gnawed two more leaves, then another... Finally, the day came when the leaves remained only on the top of the ficus, I could not get them out. This made me very sad. One day my mother, apparently having rested a little, noticed the bare ficus tree. There were no leaves below. I honestly admitted to her that I had eaten them. My mother got scared, grabbed me and ran to the doctor at the clinic. There they examined me, listened to me, did not find any sores and decided that everything had turned out well for me. Could my unusual snack of ficus leaves have influenced my future career as a biologist? I wouldn't recommend following my example, considering the circumstances of war and famine at the time. Perhaps, I should

My Little Friend

Translated by Kira Kotelnikova , class 9a

My closest friend was a girl named Valya who lived next door. She was also four years old. By then, our area had already experienced shelling and bombing. One day, as we were having lunch, Valya invited me to go for a walk, and my mother said, “She’ll eat and come." Then, the shelling began. Valya’s mother rushed out to find her, but she was nowhere to be seen. All the adults went to look for her frantically checking every nook and cranny, including the basement and attic, but they never found her. My mother said that she was probably stolen... During winter, I made a new "friend"—a large rat the size of a rabbit that started visiting me. Due to hunger and cold, I quickly got tired and climbed into bed. I remember we didn't have white sheets, only blue bedding. One day, the rat climbed onto my bed. We played hide-and-seek. When I was lying on the pillow, she was sitting at the feet at the end of the bed. I told her something, she listened to me carefully.

Before the war, I had many friends in my neighborhood. We lived on the ground floor, and an Assyrian family resided above us. They had many children. Their eldest son took care of me; whenever I wanted ice cream or lemonade, he asked my dad, "Valya wants some ice cream." My dad always gave him money for two, and the boy bought and gave one to me. Tragically, his entire family perished from starvation, including my friend. We also had a small, fluffy white dog named Milya. As a baby who couldn't yet walk, I crawled to her and clung to her soft fur as she walked. That’s how Milya helped me learn to walk. Unfortunately, during the early months of the famine, Milya disappeared. My mother said she must have been caught and eaten. So, I lost another friend.

Then, I hid under the blanket with my head, and she ran back and forth across the blanket. After a while I threw back the blanket, she sat down at my feet again. We played this game for several days until I told my mother about my new friend. She was horrified. She found a hole in the corner, fixed it, and our games came to an end. Rats can be dangerous; they spread diseases and may bite. However, that doesn't apply to our domesticated white mice and rats. Years later, I was given a white lapdog puppy the size of a palm. She lived with us for fourteen years, and we loved her very much. You can probably guess what we named her? That's right, "Milya."

llustration by Rodionova Irina Sergeevna

A Riddle

Many of you like to make and solve riddles. Can you guess what it is: "It’s white, rounded, small, and edible"? Here is how it went. In the spring, the townspeople, who wanted and could work, were given seeds and a place for a vegetable garden. I remember that we grew beetroot. My mother and I went to care for beets and ate their tops. One hot summer day, we were walking from our vegetable garden. There was no one around. I was jumping from foot to foot, and suddenly I saw something lying on the road in front of me. It was white, clean and rounded. I picked it up and took it to show my mother. What is it? My mother’s face lit up. She placed my find in the palm of her hand and admired it without answering my question. I thought: a ball, a blob, then I remembered about an egg. But Mother said it was a potato. Someone dropped it by accident. My mother was very sympathetic to the person who lost the potato, but there was no one to give the loss to. Mother said we'd come home and make a wonderful soup out of it.

And we used to cook soup like this. In the evening, when my mother came home from work, she heated an oven. Then, she opened its door, and we sat on a small bench next to the fire. Boiling water was poured into the mugs. The siege bread was black, raw, heavy, and stuck to teeth. Therefore, a slice of bread was strung on a splinter and held near the fire. The bread dried up a little, it was crumbled into boiling water and eaten with such a "soup" with a spoon. And the potato soup turned out to be just wonderful! Before the war, my parents petted me. I came to the bakery with my father, and I was given a “bird” bun. I ate only the "eye" (the raisin) and returned the bun to my father. I ate only the cream in the sugar tube cake, and the father finished the tube. How many times, sitting with my mother by the stove, I regretted that there were no "birds" or sugar tubes then.

The Thief

take the apricots away from me because they were dirty, rats ran around them, and they had been in my mother's boots. But I couldn't resist eating them. I only stopped when my mom started crying, probably because she was ashamed and desperate. Then I calmed down. Not everyone lived poorly during the blockade. One of our relatives worked at a bread factory, and she took some flour and sugar from the factory little by little. She sold it to starving people, exchanging it for gold, paintings, carpets, and tea sets. She was afraid to keep the flour and sugar at home because there were raids, and she could have gotten arrested. One time, she asked my mom to store two kilos of flour at our place because she knew no one would search our apartment. My mom agreed to keep the flour. But we were so hungry, and she decided that if she took just a tablespoon of flour for our soup, no one would notice. Then she took more and more. Soon, she realized that the amount of flour in the bag had visibly decreased. She felt upset but didn't do anything because we didn't have anything to put in a bag that looked like four, and, after all, it wasn't our relative's last bag.

Translated by Kirillova Sofiia, class 11 a

It’s wrong to steal. It's shameful to be a thief. But there can be different circumstances. Judge for yourself. I have already told you that we had an old grandmother. She was lying in her bed with a broken leg. When my mom left for work, she left some food for me and on the table beside Grandma's bed. I ate my portion right away, but Grandma split her meal into small parts. I used to take little pieces from her plate. Grandma had a stick that she used to chase me away. In the evening Grandma complained to my mom, and mom tried to persuade me, a four year old girl, not to steal Grandma's food. I promised her that I wouldn't. *** One day, when my mom was out, she found a torn bag full of dried apricots. She put some fruit in her rubber boots and went to pick me up from kindergarten. But we couldn't get home because it was too painful for mom to walk with the dried apricots in her boots.My mom and I sat on the ruins on Shkapin Street. It was a terrible street filled with ruins and open sewer manholes. Mom took off her boots and poured out the apricots. I then started picking them up from the ground and eating them. My mother was angry and tried to

Let it be light

Translated by Kirillova Sofiia, class 11 a

because they were too pressed by the basket on top. I cried very hard, and after that accident the maids stored the baskets more carefully. In return for my help, the poultry maids gave me some eggs, which I carefully carried home in the hem of my dress.However, I forgot about the electric lights. When they were once turned on, it looked like I was witnessing a miracle.

I was only three years old before the war, but I remember some things quite well. I remember a cartoon called "Fedora's Trouble". It was about a messy woman named Fedora who was so untidy that all her dishes ran away from her. We spent every summer in our house in Srednyaya Rogatka, a neighborhood near the Moskovskaya metro station. There was a lawn with beautiful yellow daisies. The flowers were almost as tall as me, and I was afraid to get lost in them. My grandma and I walked through this lawn to the poultry yard, where we watched the little chicks. The chicks were yellow and very small. In the evenings, the poultry maids put the birds into large baskets, and I was happy to help them. The maids stacked the baskets on top of each other. However, one time when my grandma and I came to the poultry yard, we found out that some of the birds had died

llustration by Rodionova Irina Sergeevna

During the years of the blockade, the windows were always tightly shut and covered so that the light could not be seen from the street. Then the enemy did not know where to bomb. If someone's window was poorly curtained, the patrol came to the apartment and asked them to close the windows.

You may have seen the movie "Cinderella". There was a scene where the kitchen where the main character was sorting beans suddenly lit up, and Cinderella realized that her magical godmother (fairy godmother) came and that something wonderful was about to happen to her. Just imagine: I am sitting in a dimly lit room a tiny oil lamp is burning. My mom is doing something in the kitchen, and I am eating a treacle tart given to me by our neighbour. Suddenly, the room starts getting lighter. The light comes from somewhere above, gradually increasing. The outlines of the cabinet, table, doors appear. I do not know what is happening, but it looks like a miracle. I am running through the hallway to the kitchen, and there is light everywhere. Everyone in the house is hugging and laughing. We finally have got electricity!

Heroic Deeds

Mom had never behaved like this before. And although I wanted to eat very much, I realized that she couldn’t be stopped and I swallowed my droll silently. But when the teaspoon started to scratch the bottom of the jar, I howled. Mom woke up and was horrified to see that she had eaten almost all the condensed milk by herself. She started making excuses reproaching me for not stopping her. She gave me the rest of condensed milk.Although I was small but I realized that mom was running out of energy and if she had not eaten the condensed milk, I wouldn’t have had mother and then I wouldn’t have been either.

Translated by Kulikov Timur, class 11 a

You might not agree with me but I think that not only adults but also children can commit heroic acts. I don’t mean those boys who put out firebombs in the besieged city, girls who looked after the wounded and so on. I mean the deeds of small children. Do you like condensed milk as I do? There was condensed milk during the war too but only the little amount. Mom used to put groceries into the bedside table and locked it. But because there were rings on the doors I could watch in the slit that there was a jar of condensed milk. One evening when my mother came home from work she lit the stove, heated up some water, opened up a whole jar of condensed milk and we sat down to eat at the table opposite each other. Mom became sleepy because of the warm, took a teaspoon and started eating condensed milk slowly. I was sitting opposite her and waiting for me to be given a spoon too but she didn’t notice me.

llustration by Rodionova Irina Sergeevna

During the years of the siege, the winters were severe. In Ogorodny lane where we lived before the war, there were firewood, water and it was close to my mother to go to work at the Kirovsky Zavod. But it was already a frontline area and it was not allowed to live there.We got a room in Baltiyskaya Street. Now it is a distance of three bus stops. Mom put me on a sled, wrapped me in a blanket and took me to a new apartment. Imagine that it's dark, only the moon illuminates the road, frost, wind, no one is anywhere, and my mother drags the sled with me.While I was walking down the Stachki district wind was not as strong. But when we arrived at the square the blizzard was starting to get gruesome. We needed to cross the square and go around the corner, Baltiyskaya street was over there and it was windless.

I see the picture clearly now. Big, snowy square, blizzard. The moon sometimes appears in the sky and it gets light. The monument to Kirov S.M. is covered by planks and rises above everything. Young, hungry, exhausted from work, my mom is pulling me on a sled with her last strength. My knees are freezing, it hurts a lot, but I endure it, I understand that it is very hard for my mom and I wait until we can go around the corner and my mom can have a rest. But the pain gets stronger and I start to cry. Mom stops, starts to rub my feet and reproaches me why I have not told her earlier. I just wanted to help her. My right knee still hurts before the cold weather and I tie it with a scarf at night. It is up to you if those actions are heroic or not. Did only working people contribute to the Victory, or maybe little ones also were courageous.

Scary things

The reasons why we moved were different because either our house was bombed or something collapsed or windows flew out. As a result we found ourselves in Kaznacheiskaya street, the yard-keeper opened someone’s flat to us and pointed to the room which we would live in. The owners were evacuated. The flat was on the fourth floor. It was sunny and bright with a parquet floor, mirrors, beautiful furniture. In wardrobes we found white bed linen, in the middle of the room there was a big table with a tablecloth. The room was very beautiful.Mum took the linen of the wardrobe and made the bed. She gave me something to eat and put me to bed. Suddenly, the shelling started and the shell hit our house. I was lying on the bed and saw how the wall moved away from the ceiling, the plaster started to fall down. Mum rushed to me and covered me with herself, a piece of the ceiling fell on her. Then everything got quiet. We were afraid to move, the walls could fold up like a house of cards. Meanwhile, the firefighters arrived. They started to call if there was anybody alive. We answered. When mum opened the door there was nothing there. There was no beautiful flat. The firefighters put up a ladder and told us to get down quickly. Mum got down by herself and I held on tight the firefighter’s neck and back. We returned to Baltiyskaya street again.

Translated by Tatyana Filimonova, class 9a

You have already known that I was at home alone while my mum was working at the factory. We lived on the first floor, the window was big with low windowsills. So, I played next to the window, it was light there. Nobody walked by our house because it was the frontline area. However… In winter when it was already quite dark I saw a tall man who was walking along the street near the windows. He was wearing a gray quilted jacket, same trousers, gloves, a hat, shoes. Only his eyes were out. He was walking slowly and suddenly he saw through the window a playing girl. He stopped, looked at me and didn’t moved. I don’t know what thoughts were in his head but probably they were not kind. The window separated us, he could crash it and take me. I was very frightened, I hid in the box with toys which was under the table and didn’t go out until mum came in the evening. Since then I started to be scared. Mum boarded up the glazed doors in the room, strengthened the window frame, put the curtain. Soon we went to another flat. During the war we moved five times and lost all our property. The only thing that mum always kept when we moved the house was the icon of the Kazan Mother of God. My mum was blessed with it by her parents when she got married my dad and this icon is still kept in our house.

We were a little late. All children were already dancing in a circle and singing around Christmas tree. My mother changed my clothes and pushed me into the hall. A silent scene followed. Children were in the tights, harem pants and sweaters with long sleeves. Nobody expected to see naked arms, naked legs, a wonderful dress and a big white bow. Children didn't remember how it was before the war, and stared at me with surprise. Suddenly, adults' faces were changed, I remember it very well. They warmed up and looked as if candles were lit up inside them. They remembered the happy, peaceful years. Mother was late and when she saw that it was a surprise, she hurried to work. Everyone began to dance, had fun and laughted. And I was with others. I became a beauty queen. The only thing that confused me was my naked arms and legs. Everyone got used to wear a lot of clothes because of the cold and hunger. We kept party dress for a long time and then after the war, when it was hard with clothes we presented it to the little girl next door. It was good in the kindergarten. We drew, sculpted from plasticine, cut out figures from paper. If nobody сame for someone, we put mattresses and blankets on the large stove in the kitchen, which was heated with wood. We, children, with the cook and the kindergarden teacher on duty went to bed there like one friendly family.

The Beauty Queen

Translated by Daria Davidova, class 9b

Every person has something special that only they did or said in the childhood. As for me, wherever I came, I declared right away: ,,My daddy and me are the most beautiful, my eyes are blue, and my father’s eyes are pink (he had light brown eyes). However, during the blockade, famine and bombings, beauty wasn’t on the top. Nevertheless, one day my mother brought to mind everyone about peaceful and happy time. I went to the kindergarten on Tractor street. New Year was coming, it was 1943 year. Christmas tree was brought. We kids made Christmas tree decorations and learnt poetry. My mother decided to make a snowflake costume for me. We had a new beatiful children's dress of tea rose silk. Our neighbour brought it at the beginning of the blockade. Her daugther had died and she gave it to me. The dress was just right for the holiday. Mother sewed white panties, knitted up white socks, found a bow. However there were no shoes. Mother decided to stick to her guns and to sew the white slippers with pompoms by herself. She made them in the evening after work.

Raspberry the Berry

was pleasant. The door was closed. No one came to me, but I wanted to eat. through the window, I saw it other children were playing near the lake. I climbed out of the window into the garden, and there were large berries on the bushes. I tried one ,then another, until I ate most of them. It was raspberry and the head doctor saved it for her son. Can you imagine what I got for it? I just didn’t get beaten up. My mom seemed to feel that I wasn’t good there . She took off from her work and came to the sanatorium. What do you think, my mum did? of course she took me home . it was the first and the last visit to the sanatorium in my life.

Translated by Eva Gorbunova, class 9b

Despite of how good I feel in there kindergarten, I was very weak. because of hunger all the time I had dystrophy-such a sickness. As soon as possible, I went to a sanatorium.Mum said, that sanatorium was in Toxovo on the shore of a lake. I remember, that we were in the countryside train. There was a high green slope, full of flowers at the station where we got off. I put down my door and started picking flowers. When I realized that I had left my doll on the station, we had already gone far away from there and no one came back for my doll. I didn’t know anything about mosquitoes before, but there was a lot of mosquitoes because we were near the lake . They attacked me. Their bites itched. in the end of the day, the nurse spotted me, I looked terrible. The nurse smeared the bites with special antiseptic medicine - brilliant green, and I became all green. The doctor put me to isolator. In the morning, I saw a white clean room,three beds, white curtains, opened window. The breeze from the lake

llustration by Eva Gorbunova

Happiness

Dad gave me his hat, duffel, coat, bag, climbed through the window, which we closed immediately. I remember us sitting at the table, playing and laughing. Mom came home and could not understand who I was talking to. And after that we were sitting together in a warm, clean, comfortable room, sharing other news and were happy, as if there was no war.

Translated by Amalia Zainutdinova, class 7b

We moved to Turbine Street. The street cleaner hardly opened the flat, it appeared that there was ice behind the door. At the kitchen - about a meter thick. The ice was beaten and taken outside. Slowly everything started getting better, the flat became clean, warm, comfortable. Once I, for some reason, was alone at home. Mom, when she was leaving, locked the room and the flat with a key. Then, dad came home, but I could not let him into the flat. He got out of the hospital and was returning to the army after his fifth injury. During the war, all balconies were connected with ladders. My father climbed to our balcony on the third floor by the ladder. But I could not open the window, I did not have enough strength. It was freezing cold outside. Dad got cold and even angry because I could not open the window. But then he suggested acting together. He pushed the window with his shoulder, and I tried to open it from inside. And we did it!

Conclusion

On September 1, 1944, I went to school № 384. All my friends helped me get ready for school.Someone gave me a military field bag on a long strap. I carried notebooks in it, and it was very convenient to slide down the barricade that was still standing near the school. The barricades were built across the streets so that enemy tanks could not get through. In winter, they were covered with snow, it turned into a nice hill, and we, the children, helped pedestrians get over it.My mother sewed me some harem pants from a baby flannel (thin) blanket. These are long pants with elastic at the bottom. They had white stripes: wide and narrow, but I did not care. One neighbor gave me a hat with long "ears" made of sheepskin. A muff was found in another neighbor's pre-war basket. The muff was worn on a string around the neck, and hands were hidden in it so that they would not freeze. My coat was made from a German officer's greatcoat, which made my mother feel uncomfortable, but not me. I tore it in a week, hanging on a fence.

Translated by Sakhatarova Polina and Semenova Marina class 11 a

I remember well the day in January when the blockade was broken. We lived on Turbinnaya Street, and there were Katyushas (rocket launchers) behind our house. The soldiers, saying goodbye to us, said that we would not have to sleep that night. And indeed, the whole sky was ablaze, and volleys thundered. My handsome, smart, beloved dad died in March 1944 near Kingisepp after the city had been liberated from the siege. He was wounded in the stomach. The commander came and asked the wounded who could hold a gun to help them. Dad could hold a gun and shot, helping his comrades, until he ran out of strength. I remember well how the troops marched along Stachek Avenue in May 1945. On the square near the Kirov monument, a general on a white horse was reviewing the parade. An airplane was dropping leaflets. And I was running among the soldiers, hoping to find my dad.

Our first teacher Elena Stepanovna was not young, demanding. She taught us to study and love reading books. When I got bad marks, my mother would take out my father's report card with grades, there were only fives and fours, and I tried to study better.Elena Stepanovna conducted natural history lessons in the biology room. There at the entrance two bear cubs stood on their hind legs. I had never seen bears before; I got scared and refused to go to class. No amount of persuasion helped. Then Elena Stepanovna covered me with her shawl so that the bear cubs would not notice me, and I walked between them. Then I wasn’t afraid anymore.Maybe that’s why I became a teacher instead of a doctor, too. I keep all my mother’s medals, including “For the Defense of Leningrad’’, “For Victory in the Great Patriotic War’’ and my father’s triangle letters from the Leningrad Front. I do not know if he had any awards.

Children, thanks for reading my memories.May your childhood be peaceful and happy.

llustration by Rodionova Irina Sergeevna