The neighbor’s words wouldn’t leave my mind. I replayed them over and over, like a stuck record, and each time they hurt even more.

It turned out that this grandmother was one of the kindest and warmest people in the village. Everyone knew her, helped her, respected her, and truly loved her. But behind that quiet smile was a fate that made one’s heart ache.

Her husband died very early. She was left alone with a small son and never tried to build a personal life again.

Her entire life, all her strength and years, were devoted to one thing — raising her son to be a достой person. And she succeeded. He became her pride, her meaning, her everything.

When the time came for him to go into the army, he hugged his mother tightly and, with an almost carefree smile, said:
“Don’t be sad, Mom. While I’m away, take care of my bicycle. Consider me at home as long as you can see it.”

But he never returned. Later, they said it was due to careless handling of a weapon. Those dry words completely broke the woman. Her world collapsed in a single moment.

Since then, that very bicycle became her only comfort. The promise she made to her son, she kept as something sacred.

She took it with her everywhere — as if she were not pushing metal through the snow, but walking beside her son, who was still accompanying her in this life.