Lesha’s stories about the white mamma won over Fedota and his wife. As
they put him to bed on Easter eve, they hung a white candied egg above
his head.
“It’s from the white mamma,” said Christina, “only you darling mustn’t
touch it; at least not until the resurrection, when you’ll hear the
bell ring.”
Lesha lay down obediently. He looked long at the egg of joy and at last
fell asleep.
Saksaoolov was sitting alone in another room. Just before midnight an
unconquerable drowsiness again closed his eyes, and he was glad that he
would soon see Tamar.
At last she came, all in white, joyous, bringing with her glad tidings
from afar. She smiled gently, then bent over him, and—unspeakable
happiness!—Saksaoolov’s lips felt a tender contact.
A sweet voice said softly: “_Christoss Voskress!_” (Christ has risen).
Saksaoolov, without opening his eyes stretched out his arms and
embraced a slender, gentle body. It was Lesha who climbed on his knees
and gave him the kiss of Easter.
The church bell had awakened the boy. He seized the white egg and ran
to Saksaoolov.
Saksaoolov opened his eyes. Lesha laughed as he showed him the egg.
“White mamma has sent it,” he lisped, “and I’ll give it to you, and you
can give it to Aunt Valeria.”
“Very well, my dear boy, I’ll do as you say,” said Saksaoolov.
He put Lesha to bed, then went to Valeria Mikhailovna with Lesha’s
white egg, a gift from the white mamma, but which really seemed to him
at that moment to be a gift from Tamar herself.