PREVIEW: “Olga, The Blind Man's Beauty” is a raw story of strong characters but at the same time it is yet a Delightful tale of delicate Love, Dilemma and a different Insight. This unique Story is set in an old country village, where this unusual plot can easily be developed into a far reaching Screen Play with many unique twists. But until then, just ENJOY!

Olga, The Blind Man's Beauty

MANY years ago, far off in a most beautiful and pleasant valley there was a quaint country village called Sidba. Traditional, peaceful and industrious were all its villagers. This village lay nestled in a lush green valley of abundance and in this village called Sidba, dwelt a blind man named Borris Trafimitch Batukin.

Although Sidba was a peaceful place to live it still was a village of many hard working people and of course, where you have hard working people you will always find some misfortune and so it was for our village friend, Borris.

Borris was only nine years old when a dredful misfortune came to his life after being thrown into the side of the barn by his fathers frightened horse and was knocked unconscious. During that dark and stormy night a fierce fever took hold of Borris and held him deep in its grip and after its fearful release, Borris awoke to discover that his once precious vision was gone and he was now blind.

As difficult as this tragedy was to the family, Borris’s wonderful caring parents tried everything they could to regain back their only sons sight but it was not to be. His sighted memories were now limited to his youthful perceptions and wonderful recollections of his parents and his childhood but life in this peaceful village still went on for everyone.

Borris’s life was not easy. But his good father and caring mother worked to prepare their sons life well. Slowly he learned and with special training and workable skills he slowly grew into a most productive and responsible son. The Batukin dairy cows were some of the finest in the region and as time went on, Borris’s many experiments and efforts turned their milk and sweet cream into many new types of delicious cheeses. A very handsome dairy industry began to grow up within the valley and in time, the village of Sidba became rather dependent upon the Batukin Cheese Factory!

However, as time and seasons go eventually the years claimed Borris’s parents and life became lonely and more trying than ever for Borris. Nonetheless, after many difficult years of labor and struggles he finally succeeded in achieving the reputation of the regions finest cheese maker. Of course, with this success came reputation, prestige and wealth.

Borris’s life seemed to be full but village friends could recognize a deep loneliness within him and rumor whispered that Borris was contemplating the possibility of taking a wife. This rumor was confirmed when several potential wives from distant villages along with their escorts visited Borris’s home. This was somewhat disturbing to the local villagers, because, a marriage from another village might mean that Borris might move his cheese factory somewhere else, to better suit his new family arrangements.

Well now this is where our story begins to take root. For in life, there’s always that concern for self preservation and the ideas of the “well doers” and so it was with the village of Sidba. The villagers being of a practical nature and somewhat devious in motives, knew that among them, right in their very own Sidba and truly most convenient, there was an unmarried village maiden. Now Olga our village maiden was fair in character, excellent in nature, skilled in domestic affairs but wonderful "Olga Havrilivna" was certainly lacking in beauty and in appearance.

Better said and surely sad, Olga as kind and gentle as she was was a sight to behold! By this it was meant that she could scare a herd of goats over the cliff by her unfortunate looks, and so it had been reported on more than one occasion.

Since the village of Sidba was now prospering greatly by Borris’s enterprises, it became extremely essential to locate and secure a good village wife for blind Borris. Late into the evening the villagers would gather, discuss and try to work out this bewildering happenstance. Finally the decision was made to hire the services of Katrenia Nickalavna the oldest village Match Maker. It wasn’t easy but with all of Katrenia Nickalavna’s skills of cautious persuasion she first managed to head off outside competition and unwanted intrusions. Then eventually, with skillful wording by old Katrenia a workable solution was placed into effect. A finely arrange courtship between Borris and one of the villages most sensible, sweet un-picked roses, Olga Havrilivna was now on its way.

Of course, the oldest community match maker Katrenia Nickalavna, had also skillfully extracted a very handsome fee from the villagers of Sidba for her marvelous and very suitable arrangements. However, with her service came the vital request to the villagers of Sidba. They had to agree with all vigilence to promise, to always pronounce Olga as a rare and valued "BEAUTY" that time itself had not touched. “A rare Cheese indeed,” the villagers would say!

For the sake of Borris’s happiness and a continued supply of the best cheese in the province, the village folk bound their word to an oath, “That truly, Olga was a long hidden treasure of great loveliness.”

This was certainly true in both Olga's person and heart, for she was lovely and of honorable character, and innocent up to the point of keeping her true appearance more or less confidential.

In this matter she held a strong confidence in her own abilities and was never worried by her own appearance and lack of what others might have thought to be "beauty," and found no reason to speak otherwise of what life had allotted unto her. For the quality that made Olga so rare, was that she felt herself to be “Beautiful” and nothing had ever persuaded her to think otherwise.

From all recollection the wedding was a grand event. For the sake of Borris’s ultimate happiness everything went perfect, without so much as a whisper of “fraudulence.”

It was grand, every major cheese producer and buyer of the Batukin Cheeses were there to celebrate Borris’s good fortune in his new life with lovely Olga. It’s amazing what good cheese and a fine aged valley beverage will do for creating great toasts and of course, pronouncements unto Olgas astonishing beauty!

In the Valley of Sidba Life soon was made better for all. Borris now felt complete and in his new found joys, produced even finer and more perfect cheeses. The village prospered and the Batukin's went everywhere together. Their joy was known everywhere, for now both their lives were sweet with love and joyous companionship. Their visits to the village bazaar became a delightful triumph for everyone and a special event for celebration. However, in and among all this there lurked that gnawing thought of an uninformed stranger who might one day, ignorantly lift the veil on this most delicate arrangement.

In the mean time Borris in his new blissful life shined as a most happy soul while his love for his Olga was so heartfelt, it inspired the entire region with new poems of love . Several new songs about Olga’s beauty were composed and became the regions favorite and all was peaceful.

In their life together Borris only knew Olga as a splendid beauty and in his blackness could only see her as the loveliest rose and the prettiest blossom of the valley. There is a part to blindness that very few sighted men know, for there exists in blindness a strong and vivid imagination, and in Borris's case this was more than true. For Borris in his own way created the most beautiful image of his wife and viewed her with the inner eye of artistic perfection. Then too, the villagers were exceedingly careful to always comment on Olga's fairness, while behind the scenes boasting of how grand their arrangement had worked for the good of everyone. It was often thought that Borris imagined his Olga to carry with her the tender loving smile of his mother, and in voice and in heart, this was very true.

Although in all this, blindness being a powerful force in and of itself, it worked in many strange ways but still had no strength to destroy pride or alter a mans inherited traits. Blind Borris was no exception to the rule, and was still known for his lasting tantrums, furious outbursts and for his stubborn pride. Yet in contrast to these faults, Olga Havrilivna was patient and deeply committed to Borris and the faithful possibility of a miracle for his sight. And in her unselfishness, only wanted the best for her loving and caring husband.

As in all good stories things must change and so too in this saga of life in a peaceful mountain valley; and especially in the unsuspecting village of Sidba.

There came a day for the Valley of Sidba and as usual it was just an ordinary day or it so seemed to begin this way. However, by all calculation, however days are calculated, this day was henceforth called the “Day of Reckoning” for the Villagers of Sidba. By miracle or by extraordinary mishap (this strange event is still being debated for these many seasons) a great huge aging cheese mysteriously broke loose from the rafters in the curing room, unexpectedly falling upon Borris’s head, and smashing him to the floor.

This was a most frightening event and after many applications of Olgas home made remedies and potions, her battered husband Borris finally awoke from a painful day of delirium. Slowly his eyes blinked and his vision seemed to clear like a passing cloud in the wind.

At first Borris could not understand what was going on with all this strange light and unusual color but soon he found himself staring dimly into the face of what seemed to be the…"ugliest" woman he had ever thought to see! He thought for a moment that he had perished and gone somewhere of the most undesirable circumstances, “O Heavens,” Borris muttered.

Poor Borris could not understand his vision and in his confusion, he immediately cried out for his lovely Olga? Olga drew closer and replied, "Dear beloved Borris, I am here, I am with you, do not be afraid, I am your faithful and loving Olga!"

Borris was reported to have remained silent for a time, squinting and straining, before he let out a wail, "OH MY, OLGA, OH MY OLGA, WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO YOU?" Then Borris fainted again, into a deep anguish that he did not awake from for several days.

Then and there the world of Borris was changed forever, and the life of the villagers and that of Olga would never be the same. For by the workings of fate Borris discovered the cruel but practical arrangement that had been perpetrated upon his life. In time his vision came clear along with the village scheme, but the Sidba villagers were not sure if they should rejoice over this miracle or remain silent over the matter of Olga's sudden controversial appearance which now seemed to be concealing her real beauty.

Oh my, sudden changes took place in the village, for Borris in his prideful fury, and with the liberty of new eyes, announced that because of the trickery and deceit, he was going to leave the village and send Olga back to her family. When this news reached the villagers, a genuine sorrow, along with a fearful distress came into every home. For the village had attained good fortune by Borris's and Olga's marriage, and each home had grown prosperous because of the abilities of Borris and now all this was about to change. A horrendous commotion had broken out among the wives, like a great rumbling thunder storm in summer. It was reported among the men that all peace had been removed from their domains and unless this matter was solved, the husbands might have to also leave the valley along with Borris. The uproar spread like a fire in the summer heat and everyone was now feeling the flames. Never before had such a dilemma been placed upon the village of Sidba nor the surrounding region. For now Sidba’s economic stability, its reputation along with its match making abilities were sorely being tested.

The village council had now held several landmark discussions which had concluded all without the least solution. For old sighted Borris was now making good on his threatening words and had since refused to deliver his cheese to the village. Without his famous cheese, and without Olga's patient companionship towards Borris, life was already miserable for everyone and who knew what ccourse events would now take, O heavens?

All the village elders counted this twist of fate to be their uttmost concern, and considered this matter with a burdensome worry. For If they could not settle this dilemma within the bounds of reason, their entire lives might be returned once again unto much toil, and surely unto an uncertain future.

Again and again the village council met nightly, until the moon and stars themselves began to fade. While sternly pacing the worn wooden planked floors of the village meeting room, elder Nicholas Vacillivitch the oldest of all the villagers and the husband of Katrenia, the now controversial match maker, spoke up first. "Come, let us reason with him," "For Borris has been well served by a good woman And besides, my Katrenia has already spent the monies on a new cow, so we too can begin making cheese, so don’t ask forit back now.”

"Certainly, for beauty is in the eye of the beholder," Pauvil Yakovich the village philosopher interrupted from the first bench seat with his personal justification.

"Yes, true is true, but Borris's eyes in their unseen way have spent much time beholding Olga as a bouquet of roses and she has suddenly been revealed to be a bundle of thorns," Stephon Alexsaitch the blunt worded iron smith retorted loudly in his sarcasm.

"Oh but then there be the matter of us making him out to be a fool too," Mesay Mesayivitch the village miller spoke, with his head hung low as if in deep remorseful repentance.

"Nonsense," Miniah Dahvidich the areas best known stone mason stood up and swished his hand through the air and rudely cut in swiftly, then struck with his words. "For no man is a fool, unless he be called one, or thinks himself to be one and certainly, we have not declared this!"

"Oh, but we have, everyday in our silence and in our personal reasons," Evon Evonich, the village carpenter retorted back in a sharp pounding tone over flowing with accusations.

"Come, come, dear village friends," announced Semion Mattfeyivitch, with his deep rumbling but noticeably tired voice. "We can build a new philosophy with all this reason, come now let us reach a workable solution. These fruitless meetings have produced nothing but vain opinions and not one with honorable conclusion or even a near resolution."

"Fine friend, we wait for your solution, help us find that hidden spring, dear friend," Andrey Petrovivich the old toothless well digger, slurred out his suggestion.

The nights wore on and the lamps burned low while every possible argument had been raised, then exhausted by the village minds. All depth of reason had been explored, some to excuse, some to self criticism and others of angered quandary.

From out of the third row of villagers came this exclamation, "O, if we only would not have interfered with fate itself, and played with it as if it were something we had the right to do," cried Mesay Miheilivitch the village worrier, in his high frightened voice.

Through the night and into the morning arguments and retorts were continually fired back and forth. And not withstanding Adom Havrilitich the community lender had to put his two rubles in, "No, that is not true, for up until now this so called fate that we have directed has served our village well,” he looked around for support but few nodded in his favor, then he demanded, “well hasn't it," and the discussions wore on and on with no agreement.

After some silence another voice rose up out of the back, "Auk-tee, what's the matter with all of you, maybe it would be better for all of us not to worry any longer and just cast our lots to the winds, and take our chances with Borris's decisions, who knows, we might be made all the better for the matter," laughed Havril Pavilitich the village bachelor, stable owner and the communities most notorious known gambler.

"Oh, foolish friend, how can we take chances with what has become common among our wives and take away the things that have brought some long wanted luxury unto our toils," cried Petro Eliavitch the villages fattest and most brow beaten husband in the region. But imperceptibly most every head joined in and nodded to these words.

It was late the third night of meetings when old man Daniel Gregorivitch the hard working and most prosperous farmer of the valley cast out his opinions as everyone respectfully listened. "Hear me brothers, it would surely do all of us well to have this unsightful stump of trouble removed from our midst or we might say, plucked from our plowed fields. For never have we toiled like this in our fields as of yet, and all for nothing." With this, as if in confirmation the rooster crowed and the night slowly changed into early morning. And the elders grew weary with the burdens that were certain to come upon them unless this obstackle was removed or settled.

Then in a quiet moment, Victor Andreyivitch the meek mannered shoe maker stood shyly twisting his hands nervously and finally spoke in his broken words, "It appears, ah, ah, that unless, well, we bring forth an, umm, gee, well, an alteration to Borris's anger, oh my, ah, against this village, we will also be faced with many hardships, uh, uh, at home too!"

Then Arron Mesayivitch, the peace making butcher countered with his opinion, after holding back for most of the evening, "I know, we could send several souls unto Borris to plead hour case of ignorance and ask him to forgive our arrangement and to tell him that we were only trying to bring comfort and happiness unto his lonely life. This couldn't hurt, at least we might learn more about our fate from this attempt," he added as he dramatically waved his hands around for emphasis.

"Yes, that might be a start," replied Mihail Steponivitch, but was cut off when Effim Evonivitch interjected immediately with a frustrating shout, "Bull manure, absolutely not, why should we beg for scraps of forgiveness from a man who has been blessed by our honest efforts." He paused here momentarily and choked lightly over the word honest. then He recovered, sipped some chi and then went on a little calmer, "and besides, if we did apologize for our actions we would be admitting that our choice of Olga, was in error." Then he followed up quickly, "How would this make Olga feel, and what if we are successful at repairing this breach in their life, how would we then be looked upon by Olga, the wife of Borris?"

Mehail Mehailivitch the freighter then asked in his deep horse like voice, “This all sounds good, but who shall go?”

A long silence prevailed over this protest as the village roosters all began to greet the dawn. Finally, Dahvid Timofeyivitch the village potter broke the mornings silence. "We have somewhat," he stopped here as if to search for the right word, "misrepresented Olga's physical appearance to our friend, for his own good and for ours too. Borris is somewhat our responsibility, by our relationship to his father and mother, and he is a member of our community and Olga is a good woman, it is our duty to keep their marriage together. Think of what might be, if we fail to restore both Borris and Olga to their happiness. Who can persuade the pride of Borris to accept his new life, and his new wife too. It might be easier for us to train an old bull to climb a tree rather than to reason with the man of new vision, but we must try."

Then elder Gregory Mihailivitch the village cooper followed up, "Enough of everything has already passed under the bridge for several seasons, it is time for the wine of real life to fill our barrels and may we drink it wisely."

“Ha,” declared Mehile Mihileivoch Teknov the poorest man in the village who excitedly jumped to his feet with what he thought to be a brilliant idea. “Let us consider creating for ourselves a new cheese factory and stop worrying about Borris and his power over us. We have been given this most excellent opportunity, let us suffer for a short time while building a new and better cheese industry among ourselves.” “Nay, Nay,” came a cry from the gathering. “Who shall give up their time to accomplish such a task, no, we are not qualified for such an affair,” Alexsay Pavilich answered with a sure tone of apprehension.

The village of Sidba began to stir awake outside as sheep and cows were being herded down the road outside the meeting place. Mid morning drew nigh and many independent conversations hummed around the room between the more pronounced suggestions from the village council but no solution could be arrived at. As the lanterns were extinguished for the night, the gathering of seekers grew weary of this seemingly, irreparable situation and some were now snoring on the benches.

Then from one of the corners awoke Vladimir Andreyivitch the crude and bold logger, who had up until now remained only a fixture on the back bench. He slowly arose, stretched and began to clump heavily back and forth on the planked floor, stroking his long snarled beard in silence. Attention slowly turned towards his movements and he then began to speak in his low deep rumbling voice. "Here, here, poor sorrowful souls, I have set here these many nights and these many hours tonight, listening to all of your pitiful suggestions and worries over Borris and Olga. It seems to me that you are worried more for your own well being and how Borris's decisions will bring suffering unto your homes, to your wives and to this miserable village."

Tempers were stirred a little, but Vladimir continued speaking bluntly, as he paced slowly before the others who set weiry eyed upon the long wooden benches. "Yes, yes, we have listened to many suggestions, everything from having your wives wear mud on their faces for one year to show your shame, to making that so called man Borris ruler over you and bringing forth heavy taxes upon everyone as though we were his slaves. I have no wife or family, the forest is my home and I really do not care to much for slavery. It is time for someone to speak the truth unto this man and I ask your permission to go forth with one witness and deliver my declaration unto him. From this point forward we will just have to deal with matters as they arise, no matter their weight. In other words, let the ax fall where it may and let the chips fly their own direction and then try to stay out of the way of the falling tree!"

Now this counsel awoke the hearts of the dreary elders, some unto anger and some unto deeper contemplation. When the murmuring stopped, Vladimir went on. "If you have a better means or you desire to be the messenger, and it is apparent you do not and unless there is wisdom still yet to come, and if there isn't, I advise that you accept my suggestion. I am willing to go unto Borris and speak my words, that is more than any of you were willing to do and besides, what worse could come from your past decisions? Then you know that I have no wife like you to wear me down with endless words of selfish advice, nor does my livelihood depend upon Borris's stinky cheeses, as yours does, besides who is Borris to me but a smelly cheese maker!" "Oh, Oh, what words of wisdom have you come to know, a rough lumberman in the dark forest, a bachelor too," Egor the father of seven unmarried girls questioned this unmarried man. Everyone could hear the suspicion and strong sarcasm in Egor’s voice. Vladimir paid no regard to this sarcasm, stopped his pacing and turned to face his friends. "If you allow me to pay the visit to Borris, the words I speak will only be between Borris and me and the witness. If my words fail to accomplish their duty, then the witness will be allowed to make known to you what was spoken but if those words turn Borris's heart back to Olga, then you will never get to know what was mentioned. Only under these conditions will I go and attempt to right this matter in everyone's favor and under no other conditions."

By now the samovar was boiling again and the audience of ears were fully awake and every tongue was buzzing over this proposal of intrigue from the least expected quarter, the lone and solemn logger.

"Well, it seems that we are caught into a fowler's net, one that we well deserve," Evon Evonitich the village hunter quietly announced. "What do we have to lose any ways," added Vacilli Danielivitch, with a worn out look on his face. "Besides, what better person is there among us to approach Borris in this matter? For Vladimir is very much correct, about our wives interference and constant pecking on our heads about this most unusual state of affairs." At this a great murmuring, along with simultaneous coughing, rubbing of heads and much nodding broke out. After the noise died down he rambled on, "And if this man does fail in his bold attempt, we could always tell Borris that this was none of our doing, plus, I am sure that none of you are going to volunteer for such a delicate task, Huh!" It was said that you could hear a feather fall on straw at this final summation.

Everyone soon voiced their opinion in nodding relief, that someone other than themselves would volunteer to approach Borris, and excitedly, all quickly agreed to Vladimir's scapegoat proposal. So the famous three day council meeting in the village of Sidba came to a close. And Vladimir along with Jonah Adamivich the mute one, were appointed to visit with Borris Trafimitch Batukin the next morning.

The beauty of a new sweet morning roke over the distant hills, while early shadows and light moved through the tree lined road as Vladimir and Jonah made their way to Borris's well established dairy. Birds chirped, cows mooed and the noise of morning stirred everywhere in the quiet moist air of the new day. Dogs barked here and there but the old stone house of Borris remained silent as the two messengers from the village walked quietly and finally arrived and stepped up onto the covered porch. Vladimir then carelessly stomped his heavy boots on the planks and knocked heavily upon the thick oak door and waited patiently for an answer. A second and loud third knock eventually brought stirring sounds from within, and then the door opened abruptly.

There stood Borris, his eye lids drooped heavy over his eyes, his face was sprouted with a stubby unkempt beard and a pronounced scowl was fixed solid on his tired looking face. Vladimir was taken back by Borris’s appearance, thinking that he had looked better when he was still blind. After a long cold glare, Borris graveled with a stern voice, "What is the meaning of this interruption to my peaceful life?" Without hesitation Vladimir introduced Joanah the mute and then announced, "We have come to speak to you about this miserable situation that has come upon all the village," Vladimir spoke with his deep calm voice, then asked if they might come in for a moment.

A red flush suddenly spread over Borris's face and covered his features like a terrible sun burn and he quickly replied, "I care nothing of your visit and I request that you leave my domain at once before there is more trouble for you and for all of your miserable village!"

Vladimir peered sternly into the new but tired eyes of Borris and began speaking while slipping his boot over the threshold just as the door moved to close. "Even though you do not want to hear these words, I know that because you have been raised by an honorable father, elder Trafim, you will not turn us away until I have delivered these words unto you."

The mention of Borris's father brought some reason back into Borris’s mind and the door slowly opened and he reluctantly told them to come in for only a moment and speak their words.

The door was pushed open and the two unwanted villagers entered into the house. Immediately it became apparent that the aromas of savory morning dishes known to every valley resident were lacking, while the room presented itself as an empty chamber of moldy dankness and mute Jonah thought that the curing rooms for old cheeses smelled better than this house of misery. Certainly Vladimir thought, this home was not a domain of peace or of a welcoming spirit, especially without Olga's friendly voice of greeting, so emptiness told another story. Vladimir knew this emptiness well, for he lived alone and often envied those lives which had such a blessing as companionship. Borris noticed their perception and turned, stopping them as they entered the large waiting room across from the massive cold fireplace and he stood near the customary table and benches which would seat a good number of visitors, if there were ever to be any more in this home.

Borris posed himself tall, folding his arms in arrogance as if to withstand the message to be delivered, already knowing that nothing they said would detour him from his decision. When Vladimir and Jonah saw that they would not be seated and that the time had arrived for the words, the crude logger began swinging his word filled ax, without the least hesitation. "To begin with Borris, no man knows what will be told you here today! Even though the village elders, your friends, have endeavored long and hard to come to some solution, they failed in their attempts. So now I speak to you from my heart and Jonah the mute will be the silent witness to these words." But Borris glared more sternly than ever and sighed with an impatient disrespect at this crude mans introduction.

Thus Vladimir began, "This is the truth unto you from out of my simple understanding of what truth might be. By certain reason, unknown to us misfortune as we know it came to your young life with your eyes being blinded.

“This was a terrible blow to your family but because of your parents strong spirit and loving nature, they blessed your life by teaching you to accept your misfortune and to still live to the highest standards and respect.”

Some distant memory seem to lift Borris’s droopy eye lids for a moment but a saddened look spread across his face as Vladimir went on and expressed his feelings, "To your credit, even though you far exceeded all your neighbors in wealth and in accomplishments, you remained only half a man. You thought that no one could understand your plight, nor feel your emptiness, but you were wrong in this.”

“Many times we watched you arrive in your wagon at the village center and we saw your face, which could not hide your lonely heart. Nor was your voice capable of covering up the echoes of a hollow life.” Bladimir pushed on, “Although you and your accomplishments greatly benefited the entire province you still lacked the joy that would complete your life. The villagers all knew this and even though they were not capable of returning unto you similar blessings for all your efforts in making their lives better, they desired a greater joy for your life."

As Borris listened, his new eyes flickered with amusement over this idea but his fingers tightened their grip upon his arms, trying to force his mind not to accept the words. Vladimir went on, "This joy I speak of is a good wife, and your friends knew that a good wife would fulfill that emptiness and that lonely place in your heart. Their efforts in finding a good wife for you, over just any woman seeking her way, was a very deep concern of theirs. Their match making abilities and unusual arrangements were for your good, not for your harm nor for your shame and in my view your friends the villagers did a very good job."

Here Vladimire paused with a slight change to his voice and interjected, "The village might have had some personal gain in their hearts but nothing more than survival for everyone, including your family name." At this last comment, Borris broke into a smirky laugh and bellowed out a loud, "HUH, Ahx-tee, my family name?”

Vladimir's voice returned to its deep rolling rumble, continuing on un-intimidated over this outburst, "Their choice was a gift unto you and your days. In all considerations and after weighing out all things, Olga Havrilivna, was the best possible woman that could serve your emptiness. As long as your eyes did not know her features, your heart would only know her true beauty, joy and goodness. This was true in all the time of your marriage and you cannot deny this."

At hearing this Borris's face twisted again and anger mixed itself with confusion as he flexed his every muscle in rebellion. Vladimir slowly pointed his huge finger at Borris as he watched his eyes dart around, as though they had never been trained to remain steady and could not hide the emotions which were now bubbling into their deep green light.

“All went well until that most kind hearted woman of yours, began to ask and seek a miracle for your eyes, not for herself, but that you could fully enjoy all the pleasures of life together.” Vladimir shifted his stance and drew closer to Borris and went on, “She had no selfishness in her regarding what might be in the outcome of such a miracle, she only held your best interest at heart," Vladimir slowly leaned closer to Borris as he spoke.

By now Borris's arms had been unfolded and his stern look had slowly changed to that of bewilderment, as though he had never thought of such matters. But Vladimir continued his words with the confidence of a skilled logger, and the chips were beginning to collect around this great stubborn tree.

"Then one day that unselfish miracle came about in the most unusual manner. By providence, or by accident, we do not know, but then as you know your eyes were mysteriously opened, to reveal the entirety of your life, which now seems to be ungratefulness. Now your heart has been taken by dismay, instead of further joy and thanksgiving. You turned all that was good into evil and you attacked the joy of your life with harsh judgmental declarations of condemnation.” The room seem to fill with sparks and fire but Vladimir did not flinch and went on with his declaration, “You suddenly and arrogantly declared that your wife was "ugly" and "unfit" to be the wife of such an esteemed man. Then your pride roused your words against all your friends and neighbors. Then you, the new man of vision, personally threatened to destroy your blessings and sought the harm of all those who desired to make your life easier and full. I tell you now, the village can live without your stinky cheese, but you cannot live without your beautiful Olga!"

By now Borris's deep flickering reflections within his eyes had turned to burning flames and with trembling hands moved nearer the fireplace, slowly grasping a curved iron poker which stood in its place among other tools. Joanah's lips began to twitch as his eyes grew larger than walnuts and quietly expelled gas in his fright! But Vladimir stood his ground and only thought this to be an act to bring forth intimidation, possibly heading off any further words that might cut even deeper than they had already cut.

This jester did not alter Vladimir's swift powerful swings for one moment, and he continued on, with his huge finger lifted directly into Borris’s face and now growing more intense with his declaration. "You Borris, with your pride and in your ignorance of love, have declared your greatest treasure, your very own wife to be UGLY, and without any BEAUTY! Now Borris Trafimivitch I have come here to tell you to your face and directly to your heart," and Vladimir stepped closer to Borris and spoke directly into his face, so that his breath placed each word onto his burning face of embers, as if placing an offering upon a fire. "It is YOU THAT IS UGLY, IT IS YOUR HEART THAT HAS NO BEAUTY IN IT WHATSOEVER. If you had even the slightest knowledge of beauty, you would have recognized how wonderful Olga was, and how BEAUTIFUL she really is! Even though you now have eyes, you are blind to all that is good and you are dead in your knowledge of what is BEAUTIFUL, your pride is your vision and it has destroyed all that has been good to you. Olga is the most beautiful woman that you or any of us will ever know on this earth, for she has been pure to your needs, even unto giving up her life with you, so that you might see once again!"

Then and there, with the strongest words yet, Vladimir declared boldly, "Borris Trafemitch, it is you that is ugly, pitiful, worthless, ungrateful, cruel and your deadly ruler is your selfish pride And truly, it is you who is BLIND ALL OVER!"

Then Vladimir swiftly threw the last surprising blow, "And if you don't want Olga, I will take her when you die of your self inflicted UGLINESS!"

Vladimir saw that it was time to step back from this groaning tree, for upon this final declaration Borris had raised the heavy iron poker high into the air, as his face turned red like burning coals and his new ungrateful eyes shot out flames of indignation. He stood there posed in a threatening jester, ready to strike, while Vladimir and quiet Jonah backed away towards the door, knowing that this fit of anger was nothing they could stop. Jonah's eyes were still bulging with anxiety as he pulled open the door and stepped through with Vladimir following him backwards onto the porch.

Then in one of those tense moments, time seemed to pause and a strange look of mysterious inner pain came over Borris. It appeared to be a moment of realization mixed with anguish, then Borris's face turned an ashen white, his eyes twitched, his body slowly slumped under bent knees and the raised iron rod fell to the floor....and suddenly, Borris's hands went to his eyes.

As Vladimir and Jonah stepped off the porch into the bright morning light, they could hear Borris yelling, "HELP ME, I AM BLIND, HELP ME, I AM BLIND AGAIN!" His cries went on about injustice, loud bellowing shouts of anger followed the two village witnesses down the way and as they turned onto the road they heard Borris calling out, "PLEASE FIND MY OLGA FOR ME, TELL HER SHE IS BEAUTIFUL AND SEND HER HOME TO ME!"

Soon after this visit Olga was quickly hastened back to her home and once again she took up her place and from that day forward, Borris learned to love and cherish Olga more than ever before.

In time, their seven children carried on all the many tasks of their Sidba Valley Cheese Factory and from that day onward the most prized cheese of all, was named by Borris himself, "OLGA MY BEAUTY" and it became famous throughout all the provinces of the ancient land.

The villagers continued in their prosperity and Borris and Olga lived a joyful and pleasant life. Those fateful but true words from the strong hearted Vladimir were never known to any village soul, even though handsome bribes were offered unto both the messengers, for the knowledge of what had been spoken! The village of Sidba, sorry to say, has since lost its reputation for "match making.” But has since become a source of world famous cheeses, and the most prized, is OLGA MY BEAUTY!

Vladimir did finally come out of the forest, hung up his ax and settled down with one of Egor’s seven daughters and from that day on Vladimir was well respected as a wise elder. And so goes life in the distant village of Sidba, still hidden away in its peaceful valley of happiness.

By Michael M. Tickenoff
© 2004
Revised Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Revised again Saturday, May 13, 2006

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