Memories of the last Little Octobrist in history: "How I started hating grandfather Lenin..."

As you know, the birthday of the "leader of the world proletariat" Vladimir Ulyanov (Lenin) on April 22 in the Soviet Union, although it was not a day off, was considered a holiday. Usually, it was timed to coincide with the so-called Lenin subbotnik - when all residents of the country were forced to unpaid labor, and then announced in the media about how much money the state earned using free labor. The writer Natasha Kiseleva, who had already witnessed the extinction of the period of the Soviet system, nevertheless managed to “enjoy” some of its wild rituals, including becoming “Lenin’s granddaughter” - that is how the younger schoolchildren were called - Little Octobrists. She shared her memories of this experience on her blog:

“When I went to first grade, I was told that I have a grandfather, Lenin.

I knew that there was grandfather Volodya and grandfather Vasya, where the new grandfather came from, I could not understand. Maybe he is a cousin, like grandfather Borya from Zelenograd? I asked my dad about this, and he took me to the monument on the central square of Tver. “Here, this is grandfather Lenin,” dad said proudly. I looked up, the monument was of gray granite, like my mother's. I thought it was my grandfather's grave and touched my childish fist to the asphalt goodbye. Pope explained that Lenin does not have a grave, that this is our leader, but they decided not to bury him. Emotions overwhelmed me. Our country is ruled by an Indian chief, and I am his granddaughter. Therefore, I am a princess. Probably, according to the ancient traditions of the Redskins, we are not buried and I will lie in a crystal coffin when I die. When we got home, I took pencils and drew the grandfather-chief in multi-colored feathers, and next to him in a pink dress and a gold crown. Well, I also drew myself a couple of green feathers.

A month later, in October, we were received in October. It turned out that I was not Lenin's only granddaughter. I got used to the fact that my Ukrainian grandmother Masha had relatives around her on the farm, a whole class of sisters and brothers did not surprise me, I was in seventh heaven with happiness. We were lined up in the gym on the fourth floor, I was the last because I was the lowest in parallel. And I didn't get the October star. “Natasha, nothing is for you”, - said the head teacher, poking my nose with an empty tray, ten minutes ago, strewn with ruby stars.

Grandpa Lenin rejected me! I'm a bad granddaughter! I behaved badly and, probably, he noticed that I feed all the millet to our dog Charlick under the table. I stood rooted to the spot, could not say a word, tears rolled down in a hail from my glazed eyes. This was the second major shock in my life.

The star was found the next day and pinned to my apron in the staff room, but no one saw it. Since this day I started hating grandfather Lenin and tore my drawing, and in August the Union collapsed. We have become the last October in history. And because you should never offend princesses in pink dresses and green feathers. Karma is a bitch (English: you can't escape fate)..."