Andrew V. Kudin “A Handful of Soil”
Romance: 272 pages
Type: historical drama
People who were forced to leave their homeland and couldn’t come back appreciate Andrew V. Kudin’s romance “A Handful of Soil”. This book is about people who after going through pain and suffering preserved their language, culture and traditions.
“… Motherland turned away from them, but they, while wandering around the world never turned away from Ukraine and always remembered the country of outcome- from their first to last breath. Dying unknown on the foreign land under the strangers sky they spoke the last words in their native language.”
The book is based on real events and historical facts. This book tells us that past really never was the past. Events that seemed to be gone in the past years suddenly burst into the normal flow of life. The day comes when you have to answer questions first of all for yourself:” Who am I? Where am I from? What’s my destiny on this earth?”
“Toni stood up from the table and approached the window. Something broke inside, unbearable heaviness with a bitter taste and stubborn pain squeezed his chest. Toni felt like he was chocking; there was not enough air for him. He couldn’t look into his mother’s eyes.
“Which nationality was my father?”
He asked without turning around.
“He was Ukrainian, from the immigrant family just like me.”
Toni sharply turned to his mother.
- Mom, why didn’t you ever tell me about our families past, about Ukraine for example? Why didn’t you ever point out to me that we are Ukrainian? Anyway why does it matter, whom to be?
- It happened this way… Mother stopped and tiredly shrugged her shoulders. Probably to many painful memories in our family were connected to Ukraine. I was never there. We were all born here in America. Our home is here. Life wasn’t that easy. When you work from morning to the evening there is no time for memories. You finished college, and you have a stable and perspective job in the aircraft company… When I was your age it was really hard for us. I couldn’t even dream of college. I clearly remember times when people who came to America a little bit earlier then we, treated us like some people of the second quality. Thanks to your grandpa, my father, we never had to experience what’s it like to be a pauper, but I remember very well what it means.
- What about grandma? Your mother?
- She died when I was three years old. Grandpa was really depressed that he couldn’t give me a good education. He often said that his grandson would finish one of the best colleges or universities. It happened that way. All of us worked hard so you could get a good education, and you didn’t want to learn…
- I didn’t know…
- I don’t blame you. Like other immigrant families we spend too much time working and too little with our children. It’s our mistake. Work in the name of a child and almost never see him because of work…
Mother stopped. Almost unnoticeable, tear shone in the corner of her eye.
- Mom, I am not an immigrant. I am not Ukrainian and I don’t have anything to do with them. – Toni confidently shook his head. - I am American on all 200 percent! I was born in America and you my mom were also born here!
- I also used to think that way, - mothers voice sounded calm, - Toni USA is a country of immigrants. Some people came now, some a lot earlier. This is a wonderful land that took care of immigrants from totally different countries and nationalities. Their branches are here but their roots stayed there… Whether you like it or not you are also from an immigrant family. You look like a typical American but in your veins flows Ukrainian blood.
Once again tension, unbearable quietness froze under the ceiling. Two silent figures, one by the window, second at the table in the middle of the living room, froze like statues for which time suddenly stopped, like arrows on the clock by the mirror, covered with cloth. Only a candle by grandpa’s photograph shone. Flame from the candle, like life itself flung from side to side from almost unnoticeable blow of the wind through the slightly opened window. Maybe from the words they said?
- Mom, why did grandpa leave?
- It was really hard for them in Ukraine. Your grandfather was the oldest child in the family. First, my grandpa, your great-grandpa, went to earn in Argentina. After a year he sent tickets so our family could come and live with him. Your great-grandmother sold everything she had but it wasn’t enough money for everyone. Now it’s so easy – sat on the airplane and after a few hours you flew over the ocean. There were no airplanes in those years and ships were not like ships now. The course from Ukraine to Argentina took many weeks, hard and as you understand expensive. Your grandmother gathered all the children and said to grandpa:” There are four of us. -You, your younger sisters and I. There is only enough money for three of us. You will have to stay- there is no other choice, otherwise all of us will die from famine at least this way some of us have a chance to survive. I don’t know how you will live and what you will eat. Your have to survive and stay alive until we gather enough money for you to come to us.” They left, grandpa stayed. After about two years parents sent him the money and he moved to the family.
Grandpa’s eyes from the picture looked at Toni.
- Mom, how old was grandpa when they left him?
- He was a little older then ten, almost eleven.
- How did he live those two years?
Toni was amazed.
- I don’t know, grandpa never told me. People said that monks from Kiev-Pechersk Monastery helped him to survive. Grandpa as far as I remember was very religious man. He often said that from yourself and your fate you can’t run away. I remember when I had hard times he said: “ Never be sorry for what you lose. Life is this way; it consist of loss and gain, whatever happens you have to remember that something that’s truly yours will never be taken away from you Do everything you can and let you fate do the rest.”
Mom stopped and them continued after a pause.
- Later the family moved to Argentina in United States. I was born in New York then we moved to the north of the country. We didn’t talk about the country of outcome. Too many tears and pain were connected to Ukrainian land. I don’t know why grandpa wants you to go back there but that’s exactly what he put in his will… I am glad he did.
Toni raised his eyebrows in surprise.
- Why?
- I thought that there is no connection between you and him. However the will shows that he thought about you and had faith in you.
Toni was puzzled. How strange, grandpa didn’t know anything about him. Could it be that when grandpa was making his will the only thing that guided him was that Toni has his Ukrainian blood? Suddenly Toni felt that grandpa is watching him, right now, in this very moment, in this room.
- Two years between life and death –Toni rubbed his eye – in front the face of the unknown. Possibly grandpa couldn’t have left the country at all. Tell me, does anyone know about this period of his life? Who can I ask?
- Nobody will tell – mom shook her head, -No one is alive anymore. Something stayed there in Ukraine, something that he was trying to reach his whole life, something that was calling him, and didn’t let him go until the last minute…
- Mom, what are you talking about?
- Toni I am afraid, - fragile shoulders trembled, - I have a feeling that it’s not you who is going to Ukraine, but your grandpa returning there in your body.”
Events in this book are happening in USA and Ukraine. This book is about collisions between different views on life and different cultures.
“Vera sadly shook her head.
- Right now you are talking like all Americans I met so far. They all spit on other traditions and rituals of other nationalities important for them are money. You don’t have any other gods but money.
Toni burst in anger.
- And you Ukrainians have? Did you ever think about why Ukraine still stays behind? It’s because all of you are afraid to look yourself in the eyes! Truth scares you; your own history scares you even things that happened a thousand years ago still make you superstitiously scared…”
People talk about mysteries of Egyptian pyramids and forget that ancient land Kiev's Rus doesn’t carry less secrets then the land of pharaohs. This book is about the most mysterious pages of Kiev and Rus’s history.
“…a young lady walked quickly toward the exit of the churches archive, to the place an old man was sitting at.
- Father Ilarion, over the past thousand of years a lot of people tried to reveal the remains of Saint Antoni, but they were never revealed. It says in the ancient chronic scriptures that everyone who tried to reveal the remains of Saint Antoni were “punished with released flames” and after getting hurt repentance their deed for the rest of their lives!”
Young lady threw back her disobedient hair.
- Tell me why and who destroyed the “Life of Saint Antoni Pechersk”? I found parts of the text but the actual manuscript or it’s copies I didn’t find. Who destroyed them? How? Why?
Old monk sadly shook his head.
- You are wrong. In “The biography collection of Kiev-Pechersk Monastery” there is “Life and Mission of Saint Antoni”
Vera worriedly turned around. For some reason it seemed to her that someone else was in archive besides them.
- In the “Biography Collection” there is a small legend with the same name; it reminds me more of a beautiful fairytale than historical biography. I am talking about the full description of Saint Antoni, which is mentioned in the archive, but which isn’t actually there…
Old monk was quiet.
- Tell me why was Fedoskin, student of Saint Antoni, the first conventional saint whose name was put in the episcopes church books in the year 1108, but not Antoni – the founder of the monastery? Father Ilarion I have a lot of “whys” like this. The most important is why on Antoni’s grave there is such a strict restriction? Why no one, even after thousand of years is allowed to see his remains?
Old monk didn’t say a word. Once again a strange haste seemed to Vera.
- Father Ilarion, you know… you probably know. Tell me what is hidden in the grave.
Old man sighted tiredly.
- The answer is hidden in the question. Since you can correctly form a question, you can find a true answer to it. – Old man became pensive, - I warned you- knowledge could be dangerous.”
The stream of time moves like a spiral, sometimes events of old centuries at some moment become closer then, for example, those that happened a few days ago. The whirlpool of thousands and thousands years ago bursts into today’s life, and fresh blood once again washes the soil of an ancient town.
“ A stranger, a monk in his forties calmly stood up to meet her. Calm, physically strong, tall, how strange, Vera thought she knew everyone here.
- What would you like?
The monks voice sounded cold and insensible.
- I would like to see Father Ilarion.
Vera looked for the old man but he was nowhere to be found, only now at the table, where Father Ilarion usually sat, sat a stranger.
The monk slowly stood up from the table and stopped in front of her.
- Father Ilarion died.
Young lady moved back in horror. She was ready to hear anything but this.
- It can’t be. When? How?
- Yesterday. He had a weak heart.
The monk talked calmly. Too calmly, Vera thought. This tone could only be in insensible people or who too often looked in the Death’s eyes.
- How strange… I saw him yesterday.
- We know.
Vera looked in the eyes of the monk in terror. Something two meaningful she heard in those words, she became scared.
- When is the funeral?
- He is buried already.
- How?
Yong lady moved toward the door. The stranger stayed unmoved.
- Tonight.
- Why in the night?
- It’s not your first year working in Kiev-Pechersk Monastery, - stranger talked calmly, not one muscle moved on his face, - you should know that the government forbids to burry anyone on the Monastery’s territory, but every strong, believing Christian wants to be buried in this saint place. The most deserving monks are buried in the saint place of Kiev-Pechersk Monastery at night, no evidence are left so there wouldn’t be any problems with a government.
Vera thoughtfully looked down.
- I won’t even be able to put flowers on his grave…
- If you want – put the flowers by The Immediate caves.
Vera slightly opened the door, ready to leave.
- He wanted to tell me something…
- Vera. It’s your name right?
Vera raised her eyebrows in surprise.
- Yes… Did we meet?
The monk didn’t answer.
- If Father Ilarion would be alive– he would probably tell you, God calls too curious people to him before they turn forty.”
This book is about choices, when on one side of the scale there is money and on the other there is something elusive that makes us not animals but humans. Depending on what the person picks in any part of his life, depends not only how his own fate would form but also the fate line of his native people.
“ … Toni looked at the photo with pain. How often this happens! In the chaos of days there is no time to talk with the living, but when they cross to the other shore of the lake, dividing Existence and Nonexistence you beg, “Talk to me! Even for a little but, talk to me! I need you advice and support so much right now!”
This book is about love, about “ … to see a true reflections of a woman don’t look in the mirror, but look in the eyes of a man.
The romance “ A Handful of Soil” isn’t only about Ukraine’s past but also about it’s future, rebirth of the country will be possible only when people will start to respect themselves, their pasts, their roots, traditions and beliefs of their native people.
“ When he turned around he looked into his sister’s eyes.
- Tell me-what awaits Ukraine.
- Ukrainians will turn to the faith of their fathers or the country will be removed from earth. There is no third choice.
- How can you talk about it so calmly?
Vasili was surprised.
- Ukraine waits hard times but I believe in it’s future. One monk, who I accidentally met in the cave, told me that we would go through seven circles of hell and then we will be brought into light.
- From where such a confidence?
- Confidence is based on how Rus was baptized. Remember the ancient chronic- with flame and sword Vladimir baptized the Slavs. It makes that Rus wasn’t baptized but crucified on a gigantic cross!”
In March 2004 two editions of the book were published – in Russian and Ukrainian languages. The two editions have a lot in common, but they are written as two different compositions. The author consciously made them different from each other.
In the Ukrainian version the accent is on the Ukrainian history (it’s 8 pages longer than the Russian version), and in Russian version the accent is on current days and interrelation between people. Epigraph for Ukrainian version became quotes from talented Ukrainian poetess Nadegda Stepula; the Russian version is without an epigraphy. It’s also interesting that the author cautiously didn’t translate the title of the book exactly the same. The Ukrainian version is called “The Memory of Soil”, which in Andrew V. Kudin’s opinion transfers the most exact meaning, put in the title of the Russian version is – “A Handful of Soil”.

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