{"id":1666,"date":"2026-05-05T23:23:46","date_gmt":"2026-05-05T20:23:46","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.kazkaland.com\/?post_type=kazka&p=1666"},"modified":"2026-05-05T23:23:46","modified_gmt":"2026-05-05T20:23:46","slug":"portret-shcho-blymaye","status":"publish","type":"kazka","link":"https:\/\/www.kazkaland.com\/en\/kazka\/portret-shcho-blymaye\/","title":{"rendered":"Blinking portrait"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u23f1 ~4 min reading<\/p>\n\n\n

Hanna's grandmother had an old, very old portrait hanging on the wall. It depicted a woman in a dark jacket with a white collar and an embroidered ribbon in her hair. Grandma said that this was her grandmother, that is, Yevchina's great-great-grandmother, whose name was Teklia.<\/p>\n\n

When Yevka came to visit, she always walked around this portrait in a long arc. Because Tekla's eyes were dark, attentive - and it seemed that they followed you around the whole room. Wherever you sit - Tekla looks. At you. Just at you.<\/p>\n\n

One winter evening, Yevka stayed at her grandmother's place to spend the night because her mother was away on a business trip. Grandma covered Yevka with a duvet on the living room couch, put a glass of milk on the nightstand, and went to wash up.<\/p>\n\n

Yevka lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about the portrait. But the more she didn't think, the more she thought about it. The girl slowly turned her head.<\/p>\n\n

Teklia looked at her.<\/p>\n\n

\u2018'Well, of course,' Yevka said to herself, 'it's drawn. With pencil or paint. The eyes can't move.'\u2019<\/p>\n\n

She turned her head to the back of the sofa. She lay down. She turned again.<\/p>\n\n

Teklia watched.<\/p>\n\n

The lamp on the bedside table hummed softly. Outside the window, snow was falling in large, flat flakes that rustled against the glass. The house was very quiet, except for the creaking of the floor far away in the hallway.<\/p>\n\n

And then Yevka saw something that sent chills down her spine.<\/p>\n\n

Teklia blinked.<\/p>\n\n

The eyelids in the portrait slowly lowered. Then they rose. Once, twice. Just like an ordinary person blinks.<\/p>\n\n

Yevka pulled the duvet up to her nose. Then she remembered that her mother always said: 'If you're scared, take a deep breath and count to ten.' Yevka began to count. At five she realized that Teklya wasn't scary. She was just... sad. In the portrait, she had kind eyes, like Grandma Hanna's, only a little older.<\/p>\n\n

Yevka gathered her courage, pushed herself out from under the duvet and sat up. She looked straight at the portrait.<\/p>\n\n

\u201cGreat-great-grandmother Thecla,\u201d she whispered. \u201cIs that you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n

Teklya smiled in the portrait. Quietly, barely perceptibly\u2014only the corners of her lips lifted. And then a soft, warm light poured from the frame, as if someone had lit a candle behind the picture. A figure appeared in the light\u2014transparent as a cloud, in the same jacket and the same ribbon. The great-great-grandmother lightly stepped out of the frame and sat on the edge of the sofa. The feather bed didn't even wrinkle.<\/p>\n\n

"Good evening, Yevochka," Teklya said in a voice that sounded like a soft carol. "Don't be afraid, dear. I just wanted to finally say hello to you.".<\/p>\n\n

\u201cAnd you\u2026 do you always watch?\u201d Yevka dared to ask.<\/p>\n\n\n

\"\u041f\u043e\u0440\u0442\u0440\u0435\u0442,<\/figure>\n\n\n

"Always," Teklya nodded. "I watch over our family. I watch how the children grow. How Grandma Anna works in the kitchen. How you come to visit and make pancakes. And how one day you brought Grandma a bouquet of dandelions, and she cried with happiness - do you remember?"<\/p>\n\n

Yevka nodded. She remembered those dandelions well.<\/p>\n\n

"Why didn't you show up earlier?"<\/p>\n\n

"Because you used to turn your head away," Teklya smiled gently. "I didn't want to scare you. I was waiting for you to want to meet me yourself. Today you looked me straight in the eye - and I was able to come.".<\/p>\n\n

\u201cAre you good?\u201d Yevka asked cautiously.<\/p>\n\n

"I'm yours," Teklia replied simply. "And yours can never be unkind.".<\/p>\n\n

They talked for a long time in whispers so as not to wake their grandmother. Teklia told how, as a child, she had sleighed down the mountain where the school now stands. How she had baked her first pies in her life\u2014and burned them on coals. How she loved her little granddaughter Hannusya\u2014now Yevchyna's grandmother.<\/p>\n\n

When Yevka began to yawn, Teklya straightened her duvet with her transparent hand. Her palm was barely cold, like the first snow.<\/p>\n\n

"Sleep, my little swallow," she said. "I am here. I am always here.".<\/p>\n\n

She returned to the frame, quietly, like a cloud returning to the sky. The eyes in the portrait closed. Opened. And again looked gently at Yevka.<\/p>\n\n

In the morning, Grandma Hanna came in with a plate of cheesecakes and saw Yevka sitting on the sofa directly opposite the portrait and waving at Tekla.<\/p>\n\n

"Wow," the grandmother was surprised. "Have you made friends with her yet?"<\/p>\n\n

\u201cDid you know?\u201d Yevka jumped up.<\/p>\n\n

Grandma smiled and put the plate on the bedside table.<\/p>\n\n

\u2014 Grandma Teklya greeted me when I was seven too. She gets to know everyone in turn. You just have to keep your eyes peeled.<\/p>\n\n

Yevka took the cheesecake, took a big bite, and waved to Tekla again. It seemed as if the portrait blinked in response\u2014calmly and warmly, like a close relative.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n\n

\u2728 Those who loved us never truly disappear - they remain with us in memories and kindness \u2728<\/p>\n\n<\/div>\n

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