The Poem — Chapter from the Novel "Stone" by Volodymyr Shablia
The Poem
Stone — Book One: First Steps Toward the Light and Back — Chapter 12
by Volodymyr Shablia
October 1925. The village of Tomakivka.
In 1925, Danylo Shablia and his family were getting by
reasonably well. Danylo had secured a
government position that provided him with a regular salary and food rations.
His mother-in-law still worked as a cook in the hospital canteen, while his
wife, Mariia, looked after the household and earned a little extra by sewing.
Their only son, Peter, had recently turned
five. A sturdy, healthy boy, he spent most of his days outdoors, left to his
own devices, running wild with a gang of equally mischievous children.
Danylo's younger brother had not been so
fortunate. His family had three children, yet neither parent had steady work,
and they lived on the edge of hunger. To make matters worse, their eldest son,
eight-year-old Kolya, was constantly ill. Hoping to ease his brother's burden,
Danylo had taken the boy into his own home.
Peter and Kolya had taken to each other almost
immediately. Despite the three-year age difference, they treated one another as
equals. Peter made up for his lack of years with boundless energy, an
irrepressible spirit, and a remarkably quick mind.
That autumn Kolya had begun attending school.
Every evening he sat bent over his primer and arithmetic book, much to Peter's
annoyance. Peter had grown used to spending
his evenings playing with his cousin.
"Kolya, what did your teacher ask you to
read today?" Mariia asked gently but persistently, affectionately ruffling
the boy's thick hair.
Though illiterate herself, Mariia possessed
the practical wisdom of a peasant woman. She understood that mastering reading
and writing was not a luxury for a sickly child like Kolya—it was his best
chance of earning a living someday. Just look at Danylo. He was not blessed
with either strength or robust health,
yet he had learned bookkeeping and now earned enough to keep his family fed. He
worked indoors, in warmth and comfort, never had to swing a hammer, but still
provided for those he loved. That was the kind of future Mariia wished for
Kolya, though he constantly needed urging to study.
"We're supposed to memorize a poem," the schoolboy muttered
miserably as he pulled his primer from his satchel. "This one: 'The
broad Dnipro roars and groans…'"
He disliked studying, but he knew his aunt
would never let the matter drop. It was obvious he would spend the whole
evening memorizing the poem. Taking his book, Kolya shuffled over to the kitchen
table where he usually did his homework.
Peter, irritated that his cousin was busy
again, remained upset for only a moment. Seeing that his mother's attention was
elsewhere, he quietly snatched up an old, worn broom standing beside the stove,
wedged it between his legs, and galloped wildly back and forth between the
kitchen and the next room, waving one arm dramatically as he pretended to be a horseman galloping into battle.
"Danylo, help us learn the poem,"
Mariia called to her husband.
She had carefully concealed her illiteracy
from the children, secretly hoping to learn at least the basics alongside them.
She regarded education with deep respect—almost reverence—and was actually
relieved to see Peter amusing himself. Better he run around than interrupt the
lesson.
Danylo thought his wife was handling things
exactly right. Though he wasn't particularly eager, he joined his
"students"—Kolya and Mariia—at the kitchen table and began reciting
Taras Shevchenko's three-stanza poem over and over, putting as much expression
into each reading as he could.
 |
| Father teaches son |
After the fifth reading, Mariia suddenly proposed a contest.
"Kolya, let's see who can memorize the
poem first and recite it without a single mistake. The winner gets two pieces
of the pie Grandma baked."
"All right," Kolya agreed, and
everyone threw themselves into the task with renewed determination.
"The broad Dnipro roars and groans..."
Danylo launched into the poem for the sixth time. He had grown thoroughly tired of reciting it,
yet he patiently played along with his wife, who once again displayed an
unexpected gift for teaching.
"Well then, Kolya," Danylo said
hopefully, "why don't you try reciting it?"
He longed for the lesson to end so he could
finally stretch out on his bed and rest. But Kolya quickly crushed that hope,
stumbling over the second line.
There was no choice but to continue.
A seventh attempt to hammer this classic of Ukrainian poetry into the
unfortunate boy's memory clearly would
not be the last.
No sooner had Danylo finished reading the poem once more than Peter
dashed up to the table, determined to claim Grandma's pie.
"Mom! Mom! Give me the pie!" he cried, tugging at her robe.
"Oh, run along and play! Can't you see Kolya and I are learning the
poem?" Mariia scolded.
But Peter refused to budge.
"I know the poem. Those two pieces of pie are mine! You said
whoever learned the poem first would get Grandma's pie."
Mariia looked at the little boy in astonishment and with more than a
little suspicion. She herself had been trying to memorize the poem the entire
time and was nowhere close. Even the first stanza still escaped her, let alone
the rest.
Danylo recovered from his surprise first. Peter's unexpected declaration
perfectly matched his own desire to bring the lesson to a close. Still, he
found it difficult to believe. The boy had spent the entire evening galloping
around with a broomstick, seemingly paying no attention whatsoever to what was
happening at the table.
"So... you know the whole poem?" Danylo asked cautiously.
"I do. Haven't you memorized it yet?" Peter shot back.
Danylo opened his mouth to answer, but never got the chance.
"I know it! I do! Listen!"
Then, with unmistakable pride, Peter recited the entire poem flawlessly,
without a single hesitation.
His parents were speechless.
Danylo considered himself a reasonably educated man. He had graduated
from the parish school and later taught himself through years of determined
self-study. Thanks to his natural intelligence and perseverance, he had become
a capable bookkeeper. Yet memorizing such a poem almost by accident, while
playing and hearing only fragments of it, was something he could never have
done.
With a mixture of joy, pride, and amazement, he gazed intently at his
son. For the first time, he no longer saw a mischievous little rascal. He saw
an heir—one who had inherited the finest qualities of his ancestors and who
might one day surpass even his father's boldest hopes.
"Mariia, let's send Peter to school. He can go with Kolya."
The decision came to Danylo at once.
"He's a bright boy—a clever one. He'll manage. And who knows what
the future may bring? Anything can happen."
Mariia hated the thought of letting her little boy out of her sight. Yet
she, too, was overwhelmed by the abilities that had suddenly revealed themselves.
A mother's instinct told her they must not be wasted. Having never had the
opportunity to receive an education herself, she dreamed of a better future for
her children.
In that light, Danylo's proposal seemed only natural.
She remained silent for a moment and sighed deeply.
"Peter, would you like to go to school tomorrow with Kolya?"
she asked, already knowing the answer.
"I would! I would!" the boy cried, jumping up and down with
excitement.
"But you can't bounce around like that during lessons. You'll have
to sit quietly and listen to your teacher. He'll tell you wonderful poems,
fairy tales, and stories. He'll teach you to read, to write, and to count. And
you must listen to him and do as he says. All right?"
"All right! All right!"
"That's my good boy." Mariia smiled warmly. "Here's your
well-earned pie. And don't forget to share some with Kolya."
She smiled.
But her eyes were filled with tears.
Continue Exploring Stone:
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Read or download the complete books in Ukrainian:
Stone — Book Two: Difficult Roads to Hell
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