Washing on the rope

We make our way through the grass.

This is my sister and I are looking for the bra of our village cousin Zina, missing from the rope. Zina had a wedding in two days, and before that she washed her clothes and left them in the courtyard for the night. There still hung a pink combination, with narrow ribbon straps in that fashion, with a wide lace hem along the hem, a blue nightgown, a satin girdle with elastic bandages, no tights yet, but only a bra disappeared.

Satin, also in lace, on rigid straps, other linen then did not know the girl's body. In the morning, when Zina was renting dry underwear, the bra was no longer on the rope. I can not say that Zina greatly upset the loss, she had a replacement and not one. But her mother, our aunt Shura felt an unkind sign in this loss. Clicked us with her sister, her nieces, she asked for help in her search. Close to the place of disappearance of the place, we already rummaged, now here in the far corners of the manor on the nettles are sharim, maybe the wind as skidded. But there was no wind either. The theft of linen in the village was not traded.

The wedding was fun and noisy. Zina was good in the wedding dress, the groom is also not bad, what else is needed for the solemn start of family life? So far, only beauty. The village people crowded around the village. The owners, the parents of the bride took out food for those who wished, it was called "the Rents". Into the hut, strangers did not enter, looked out the windows, the women, without lowering their voices, exchanged impressions.

My sister, seven and ten years old, too, attended the wedding, but how else?

Zina was always friendly, ran to her when she came from the city to study her city shoes with a heel-stud, to wear her lower starched skirt and to turn around at the darkened mirror in a massive frame. "The girlish factory," our mother said about the awakening interest in dresses.

The wedding was noisy and there was a loss. They began to parse gifts to the newlyweds and among the packages of bed linen and crepe de chine cuts, they found a bra. But what happened to him?

The briers were cut off with sharp scissors or a knife, a smooth cut was made, it seemed with one wave of the hand. Only one loop was cut off, but then there were no other fasteners, and one button. Aunt Shura cried in a voice, we dismounted, not particularly understanding the cause of tears. Think, bra, how many all the guests gave.