A little snail went across the sea... (Russian folk saying)
Rain was tapping on the garden leaves. Peonies and roses drooped their heads sadly, shedding delicate petals under the blows of cold drops. Several snails huddled together under a large burdock leaf.
Mum, why are we called grape snails when we live here in the Moscow region, where there's never been any grapes?.. Where it's so cold…
The smallest of the snails whispered desperately.
You know, daughter, our ancestors lived on the shore of a warm southern sea, but their own carelessness brought them to these harsh lands. Foolish snails crawled into a box of ripe, juicy grapes – they knew they shouldn't do it, that the law of nature commanded them to be content with berries in the garden and not take what humans had picked… But the temptation was so great! So many berries lay in the box left on the ground – ripe, fragrant… The snails thought they would just have a little taste and crawl away. But it was so delicious, the berries called to them, wouldn't let them go… Our ancestors didn't notice how the lid snapped shut and the box was carried away to who knows where.
Her mother answered sadly.
And we should be grateful that they managed to reach this garden. Of course, there's no grape here, but still we can somehow get by.
The eldest daughter finished her mother's words in a didactic tone.
Yes…
The youngest moved her antennae sadly, and suddenly her eyes sparkled mischievously – but surely it's possible to return?! She perked up and, delighted by the suddenly appearing happy thought, almost cried out
Mum! Sisters, brothers! Let's go back! After all, that wonderful country exists where our ancestors lived! Let's go there!
A little snail went across the sea…
The elder sister smirked, and the mother said sadly:
Little snail, think about how far that is! You can't even imagine such a distance!..
The little snail said nothing. She hid in her shell and began to think hard. …Of course, to the sea is probably very far. But there, precisely there, in the sunny south is where she belongs! That's where all grape snails belong, who by a bitter misunderstanding ended up in these harsh lands. And if she walks for a long, long time – it doesn't matter how long – she will get there, where her soul yearns and flies!
The next morning, waking up early, the Snail set off on her journey. She remembered that south is the direction where trees show their side without moss. Our heroine also knew some other signs by which all forest and garden creatures know how to find their way.
… What a wonderful sweet! It's lying quite close – about three metres away. Half an hour to crawl! Well, so what… It's not so bad to stray from the path. We'll make up for it later.
Oh, another sweet! What should I do? This way I could waste a whole day for nothing… Maybe I shouldn't go after it?.. Ah, why, why must I refuse this sweet right now?! How much I want to try it! No, this won't do. If I force myself not to eat this sweet – the snail decided – my mood will be spoiled. And in a bad mood I won't be able to crawl far!
They were good sweets! Five of them altogether. Now – onwards! No more deviations.
That's what the Snail is like – a heroic traveller! Already almost twenty minutes crawling strictly in a southern direction! How many tens of centimetres covered? Or metres…
But what is this?!. Oh horror! A rocky ridge! About fifty centimetres high! – The snail scrambled up the first stone. Sharp! Hard! Brrr! The second one is even sharper. The third… And how many ahead?.. No, this is unbearable!
The Snail didn't notice how she ended up on the ground. She can't overcome this mountain! Theoretically, of course, it's possible – if you keep climbing up, ignoring that it's hard and slippery and prickly… But… No, this isn't for her! After all, surely it's not absolutely necessary to go strictly south? You could go along the rocky ridge – maybe you'll end up where you need to…
An hour, two, three passes on the way… Evening comes… It gets dark…
Hey, Snail! Where have you been all day?
Rosanna, what are you doing here?!
Seeing her elder sister, our acquaintance nearly lost her pearlescent home in astonishment.
What do you mean where?! Look around, where are you?
Her sister was no less taken aback.
Oh… I thought I was going south… I just didn't want to climb the wall…
The Snail recognised the familiar peonies and roses with horror. There was the snails' home – the large dark-green burdock…
For three days her brothers and sisters laughed at the unlucky traveller. And she sat, huddled in her shell, not even wanting to eat the treats her caring mother brought her. She didn't want to, she was being difficult, but still she ate – she couldn't starve! And her mother knows what to bring – such flowers and berries that it's simply impossible to refuse.
Poor Snail couldn't understand how it happened that she wanted to go towards a high and beautiful goal, but instead she was foolishly crawling between tasty sweets and sharp stones.
Time passed. Our acquaintance grew up, became more serious and wiser. The dream of the sunny south – the longed-for homeland of grape snails – never left her.
With thoughts of the failed journey, the Snail learned to overcome obstacles. One day she decided to climb a large ribbed stone next to which their burdock grew. She climbed for four hours, scraped her whole foot, but accomplished what she set out to do. Then she lay recovering for two days, receiving her mother's tender care and brushing off her sisters' mockery.
Do you want to go south? Do you really want to? Or are you just revelling in this dream, using it to rise above other snails?
One day her mother asked the Snail seriously.
Mum!.. Mummy!.. I don't know… I can only think about this, I don't want anything else… But maybe it's just a childhood dream… After all, I probably can't even reach the edge of the village. I'm so slow… And I don't know how to overcome obstacles at all… But the thought of the south seems to me the main thing in life, its purpose and meaning!
Our acquaintance was taken aback.
…I wonder how far she's already gone?.. I can't see the rocky ridge… People must have taken it apart. But what's this? – The Snail stopped at the edge of a large puddle. How to cross it? No ford, no way around… Feeling sorry for herself, the snail sat down on a leaf at the edge of the murky water. The sun peeped out from behind a cloud. It started to get warm... And it's not so bad here! Oh, what berries! – A blackcurrant bush grows right at the water's edge. Could this be the sea?.. And the currants – grapes?… Well, so what if the berries are small! But they're sweet! Better currants by the shell than grapes beyond the hill...
After eating the berries, the Snail settled down to rest under the currant bush. The thought of settling here pleased her more and more. For the rest of the day the snail basked, warming herself in the sun and lazily wondering whether she should continue her journey.
In the evening it got cold again, and the damp rain that had become familiar that year started up again…
Quite soaked and chilled by morning, our acquaintance was already ashamed of her inconstancy, which had made her take the first respite given to strengthen her on a difficult journey as its final destination.
She went around the puddle, spending a good three days on it. Then she had to overcome a clay embankment towering above the tops of the tallest sedge… Having crossed it, the Snail nearly fell into an abyss filled with murky water, called a ditch by people. That's when our traveller realised the horror of her situation: behind – an almost impassable wall, ahead – a ditch threatening to drown her.
What to do? The snail hadn't even had time to really get scared – when something incredible started happening around her: loud splashes, banging, squelching sounds, and appearing from somewhere above, some huge object of indefinite shape began falling on her.
At risk of falling into the water, the Snail crawled to the side as fast as she could, hurrying to shelter from the danger. The terrible black mass was getting closer, descending right over her head… Lord, have mercy! …The terrible object landed a fraction of a millimetre from the snail, who didn't notice how she ended up on the clay stuck to it and rose up with it into the air above the ditch.
By the clay lumps constantly breaking off into the water, the Snail began to clamber towards the middle of the terrible object on which she had so suddenly found herself. So… A bit more… 'Why, it's a person!' – raising her head, the Snail saw that she was sitting on a rubber boot of a boy who, cleverly stepping over the ditch, was heading towards the garden exit.
'And how do I get down from here now?' – wondered our traveller. However, the person seems to be going in the direction we need… God's will be done… Having landed on the boot, the Snail had already crossed the terrible ditch and been carried across a distance that would have taken her two weeks to overcome on her own… Let's see what happens next.
And next came the crossing of the highway, which struck poor Snail with an indescribable roar and flashing of enormous creatures that defied description. Our acquaintance didn't know whether to be horrified, thrown by fate into such terrible places, or to rejoice that God's Providence was carrying her across obstacles she couldn't overcome on her own.
Sometimes squeezing her eyes shut tightly, sometimes opening them wide, curled up in a ball, the Snail (it seemed to her that even her shell had shrivelled), kept whispering to herself: 'Glory to You, Lord! How You carry me – I don't know, but where – I believe… I believe that You will bring me to where I myself could not reach…'
And the boy kept walking and walking. Now he came level with tall iron posts, above which some kind of semi-transparent canopy was visible… 'Oh-oh-oh!' – the boy suddenly swung his leg and …kicked a bottle lying near the bus stop. From the impact the snail came off the boot and, turning over in the air, flew off in an unknown direction. She landed in someone's lady's handbag.
What will happen now?.. The Snail was already so tired of thinking, worrying and absorbing new impressions that, finding herself in a dark bag, lying on something soft, she cast off the troubling thoughts that had been bothering her and, having prayed: 'Lord, into Your hands I commit myself entirely!', sank into sleep.
After sleeping for quite a while, she woke up in complete darkness. Somewhere nearby there was an incomprehensible rumbling and roaring sound. Hearing them, our traveller squeezed her eyes shut tightly and began to pray again… didn't notice how she fell asleep again… In her sleep she dreamed that everything around was swaying, hearing abrupt words: 'flight 11-20… boarding… passengers…'.
The Snail didn't wake up.
A hot ray of sunlight, playing, peeped into the opening of the bag, tickled the snail huddled in her shell home. She moved her antennae in bewilderment and crawled towards the exit from her refuge – towards the gentle ray. 'Lord, what will be there, up above? What awaits me?' (The Snail didn't notice that she had completely forgotten how to simply think and worry – she constantly turned to the Lord). Now she had reached the opening…
Bright light and fresh air, filled with previously unknown aromas, overwhelmed our traveller. The sound of waves could be heard, birds chirping… The path along which the lady who had become the Snail's travelling companion walked unhurriedly wound along vineyards spread on the gentle slope of a mountain… Seeing golden bunches ripening under the southern sun, our heroine decisively pushed off from the handbag and tumbled into the grass.
An hour later she was already sitting on a grape leaf, telling snails gathered from all around about the misadventures of several generations of their relatives and about the great mercy of God shown to the Snail on her difficult journey…
