The Memory Keeper of Kyiv

by Erin Litteken

Ukraine is fertile and plentiful, and Stalin thinks we should be the breadbasket of the Soviet Union,”

Everyone wants Ukraine’s fertile soil for their own, and nobody wants to let Ukrainians rule it.”

She shuffled out of the room, mumbling in Ukrainian. “What are you saying?” Cassie called after her. Bobby paused in the doorway and gripped the frame. “It’s something my father used to say to me when I was young.” “What is it?” Bobby turned to face Cassie and closed her eyes, as if retreating into herself. Her voice broke as she translated the words into English. “Just make it through today, and hope tomorrow will be better.”

“You must survive this and tell the people of the world what has happened here, so it doesn’t happen again. Use your pencil and paper and weave your beautiful words to keep our memories alive. Don’t let me die in vain, Katya.”

“Life is a series of choices, each one pushing you towards the next. Maybe if I’d chosen differently in the very beginning, things would have been better.” “Or maybe they would have been worse,” Cassie said. Bobby shrugged one bony shoulder. “Maybe. But what’s done is done, and I can’t change it now. I can only say this: I made a mistake in thinking I could bury it all. Looking to the future doesn’t mean you have to forget the past. You can have both, Cassie, and be all the richer for it.”