Slava's Helping Hands, Part 1

Slava stood at the gate leading to his family's home and watched the people hurrying back and forth on his road. Slava was lonely. His family had just moved to this town, and he did not have any new friends. Most of the children who lived nearby were in school, but Slava was just 5 years old, and he did not go to school yet.

Slava wished he had someone to talk to or play with, but he did not know any of his neighbors yet. He made friends easily, but right then he could not see anyone who might want a friend. So he just stood near the gate and watched people hurry to wherever they were going. It seemed that no one noticed the little boy.

A New Friend

He was ready to look for something else to do when a strange sound caught his attention. He turned to see what was making the strange noise. Then he saw it. An iron-wheeled wheelbarrow was sqeaking and rattling over the gravel in the road followed by a wrinkled old woman with a puff of gray hair waving from under her colorful scarf.

As she neared his yard, Slava pushed open the gate and ran to the old woman. "Where are you going? Why do you have a wheelbarrow?" he asked. The old woman looked at this boy who was so full of questions. Then she stopped pushing her wheelbarrow and smiled at him.

"Where are you going?" Slava repeated.

"I am going to get some bricks and take them home," the woman told him.

"May I help you carry your bricks?" Slava asked, his eyes filled with hope and excitement at the possibility of adventure. Before the woman had a chance to answer, Slava reached over and took hold of the side of the wheelbarrow. He walked alongside the woman's wheelbarrow, thinking that he was helping her push it.

When Slava and the woman reached the pile of bricks, the woman began picking up bricks and piling them into the wheelbarrow. Slava began picking up the bricks, one by one. He was careful to place the bricks into the wheelbarrow so they would not chip or break. As the old woman and little boy worked to fill the wheelbarrow with bricks, the woman asked, "What is your name?"

Babushka Masha

"I am Slava," he said, without stopping. "What is your name?"

"You can call me Babushka [bah-BOOSH-kah; grandma] Masha," she answered. "Isn't this work a little hard for you?" she asked.

"No, it is not hard for me," he answered. "I am strong. But I think it must be hard for you, and I want to help you."

"Who taught you how to work so well?" Babushka asked, placing another brick beside Slava's. "I have not met many young boys who are willing to work like you are."

"My mother taught me to work hard," Slava said. "My mother reads me stories from the Bible, and the Bible tells us that Jesus wants us to help other people. My father also teaches me to help others."

"I go to church," Babushka Masha said. "But I have never seen you there."

"I have not seen you at church either," Slava said. "And I go every Sabbath. But we are new here, and maybe I just did not notice you." When Slava said that he attended church on Sabbath, Babushka asked, "Who goes to church on Sabbath? I never knew anyone went to church on Sabbath."

"The Bible says that everyone should go to church on Sabbath."

The wheelbarrow was full, and Slava helped Babushka push it back to her house. He told her more about his church. Slava helped her unload the bricks and stack them carefully in her yard. Then the two started back to get more bricks.

"Who is your father?" Babushka Masha asked.

"My daddy teaches people about the Bible," Slava answered.

"What about your mother?" she asked.

"My mama is the choir director at church!" Slava answered proudly.

Then it was Slava's turn to ask a question. "Do you read the Bible?" he asked.

"No, I do not have a Bible. I have never even seen a Bible."

Slava was amazed that this woman had never read the Bible. Just then the pair arrived at the edge of Slava's yard. "I hope you can roll the wheelbarrow the rest of the way by yourself," Slava said excitedly. "I have to run into the house and get something. I will be right back!" And with that Slava raced through the front gate of his home and into the house.

(to be concluded in part 2)

This story originally appeared in the children's edition of Mission, 3rd quarter 2001, edited by Charlotte Ishkanian. Used by permission.