I have dared to affront him, she thought, head full of panic as she blindly made her way over the hard packed roads. She had no destination in mind, merely to remove herself from his sight. What she had done made her offensive, and she was plucking herself from his sight. I have dared to affront him and now must atone.
What was worse, she had affronted him, and then fled like the rankest of cowards. It wasn't any type of attack from the other side she feared, as none of the enemy were nearby, but she was to protect him from earthly threats as well. Here in the village there were any number of things that could harm him, a runaway cart, a falling barrel, even another human, and she had abandoned him!
She slowed to a walk in her confusion. Which was the right course? To return to him and continue to offend without having made an appropriate act of contrition, or to stay away?
The longing to return to him was strong, due to how ingrained her mission was to her very core, but the fear was equally strong.
The inquiring glances of the villagers were lost on her as she dithered. Finally she found herself in front of the baker's. For lack of any other action she went inside.
"Ah, Snegurochka! You are early this week."
The fat cheerful baker, round face beaming beneath the sweat and flour, greeted her cordially as he always did. Despite the fact she knew she was not worthy of such warmth, it did make her feel a bit better.
"Greetings, Gospodín Kaluzny. Forgive me for my earliness. You must not be prepared."
"Atch, we have enough of what you need, Snegurochka. Is that your basket? Give it to me and I will see it properly filled."
Obediently she handed it over and waited in the small front room of the bakery, the fragrant smell of bread washing over her as Kaluzny pushed aside the heavy curtain to go into the oven room. Against the back wall there was a small rack with slanted shelves that showed a selection of the simple goods that Kaluzny offered, with a floury counter in front of it. Despite the small size of the village, Kaluzny tried very hard to make it into a proper shop, as he had seen in Kyiv.
Soon enough he bustled back into the front room, basket covered with a tea towel which bulged.
"Barely cool enough to handle, that's how fresh they are," Kaluzny boasted as he handed over the basket. She felt a curious stare from him as she counted out the money to pay.
He can see my sin upon me, she thought, and her hands began to tremble.
"Atch, no need to be so nervous, Snegurochka," he told her kindly. "You merely seem a bit more pale than usual. Is anything wrong?"
"Nothing that prayer and atonement cannot repair," she told him. I hope.
"Did you quarrel with your Popiy?"
"No, I stepped out of place and he correctly admonished me for it. I must realize the root of my error and tear it from me, so it may never happen again."
To her shock, Kaluzny burst into hearty laughter.
"I—I know my sense of humor is ought what it should be, but I am uncertain there is anything to be amused by in my situation…"
"Forgive me, forgive me, Snegurochka," he said, flapping a hand at her. "I can see it is quite serious for you and I do not mean to make light of it, but I was beginning to doubt there was anything of a real girl inside you, that perhaps you really were the Snow Maiden we name you as! Now don't go all fish-gape on me, I mean no insult!"
"I am very confused, Gospodín Kaluzny."
"It is quite simple, he is a man, and you are a woman. You have displeased him and made him angry and now you are sad. Very simple indeed. It is good you can feel such things!"
"It is good that I am sad?"
"No, no. I explain badly. My wife would be better…or my eldest daughter, but they are not here." He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms and looking at her with twinkling blue eyes. "All I mean is you are a very cold girl, and we here in Rechka are great matchmakers. It is natural that we assume you and the Popiy will join as man and wife and stay with us as a married couple."
"That is impossible!" she blurted out as the surprise raced through her veins like lightning.
"Why? Does your God so forbid two people in love?"
"Of course He doesn't, but…he is a priest. And forbidden to marry."
"Tchah," he snorted dismissively. "Rules change. Or perhaps he is not meant to be one of your priests."
"But I do not…feel that for him. Nor he for me. He is chaste, as he needs to be to devote himself to God. As am I."
"As I said, things change, Snegurochka," he replied with a wink.
"Not this. It absolutely cannot be. Perhaps if you would join us for our service he could explain why. I am merely his assistant. Such grand things are beyond me."
"You say this as if it is a good thing he denies himself the love of a woman!"
"It is! Without such distractions, he can truly immerse himself in his relationship with God, and so become His servant that much more."
"Ah, but how can it be so when I have been to Kyiv, and have seen married priests?"
"If a man and a woman are joined before he feels the call to become a servant of God, the marriage of course is permitted to continue, as it was meant that they were to be together, joined in service. But if a man is not married before then, it is only a distraction, to tempt him away from true devotion."
"How it can be right for one and not the other is beyond me, Snegurochka. To me, the timing is not so important. A man is a man and a woman is a woman, and to deny either the joy of one another in respectable fashion seems very wrong to me."
"There is no loss," she said, growing desperate to explain. As she had learned recently and painfully, explanation was not her strong suit. "The love of God fills the man, and the touch of a woman is nothing compared to it. It is the most beautiful light you can ever imagine."
"Ah, but the light in the eyes of a woman who says she loves you, that is truly the most beautiful light."
Her mind worked furiously, trying to find the words. "Imagine…a pampushki. One that has not been properly dressed with the right herbs and spices after it is baked. It is merely a simple dinner roll, an accompaniment to meals. Now, if you were served one that had been finished properly, with the garlic and such, it might indeed seem very fine, and the best thing you had ever had. You would hunger for more, and look forward to it as much as possible.
"Now, after this life of pampushki, you are given korovai, the wedding bread. This bread is much sweeter, and lighter, elaborate. It is special, and rare. The pampushki is all but forgotten. Once the korovai is eaten, you still remember it, and hold it in higher regard than the pampushki.
"The love of a woman is the pampushki, and the love of God is the korovai. The pampushki is still good, and appropriate for plain meals every day, but the korovai is special. If you had the pampushki first, it is not diminished by the korovai, but the korovai is more important. If you had the korovai first, the pampushki would seem like nothing much at all. You would ignore it as the korovai is ever so much more fulfilling."
As she finished speaking, she looked hopefully to Kaluzny. As with the blacksmith Petrenko, a considering light was in his eyes.
"You speak to me in a language I understand, Snegurochka. I see what you are trying to say, but I do not agree with you. I think the joy of the pampushki can be equal to the joy of the korovai, particularly if it is my pampushki!"
"Your pampushki is the best I have ever tasted, but your korovai is amazing indeed. It makes me wish for more weddings!"
"But not your own."
"But not my own. That will never be. I am devoted to God."
"For such a beautiful young girl as yourself to be so in love with this God of yours, there must be something to it. Perhaps I will join you on Sunday, so I can see what it is you find so admirable about him."
"Please do! Father Gavril is much better at explaining such things than I."
"We will see. Now scoot, Snegurochka. I have some of those plain pampushki to make less plain!"
With a smile, she nodded and walked out of the shop. The day was still young, and she had just found something she could do to atone for her mistake with Father Gavril. God had given her the words to convince two prominent villagers to come to service, perhaps He would see to giving her a few more…