"The First Few Years"

I remember how Sister Eva greeted us at the door. We both cried when she took us by the hands and pulled us inside. I wanted to stay with a kind man, afraid that he would abandon us. And that's exactly what happened. She pulled us into the monastery. I remember the coldness and the terrifying shadows dancing on the walls of the corridor as we passed. Even though they had electricity, they saved by lighting torches wherever possible.

She led us into a small room and explained that it was our new home. While she comforted us, a man dressed in a brown robe came in and started a fire in a small fireplace. Soon, Eva left us and returned with more brown robes. I don't remember much from that day, but she took us to breakfast, which was tasteless. I only remember that for the first few days, they left us alone.

The first week passed with three meals a day and time spent in the little room. Occasionally, a man would come in to light the fire, and Eva would ask if we were okay.

After few days in the monastery, we had our first unpleasant experience. We let our guard down a bit and decided to leave our room. The hallway was dimly lit by torchlight. I don't know where we were headed or why, but we got lost. Maria started crying, and an older nun found us and immediately started yelling at us. I got slapped, and she gave us a harsh scolding. From that point on, our door was kept locked.

In the following year, everything turned into a routine. When the sun rose, we had to get up as well. Very quickly, I had to start lighting the fire myself, making the bed, and keeping the room clean. At first, Sister Eva supervised everything daily, teaching me step by step. Later, the room inspections were reduced to once a week. If everything wasn't in order, we would be punished in some way. Most often, I would be denied dinner. Although the food was terrible, I needed it. I tried to make life as bearable as possible here, for Maria's sake.

After lighting the fire and making the bed, we had to head to the dining hall for breakfast. We all ate together. The dining hall was a huge room, and although there were no partitions, children under 10 mostly ate at the far end, the girls in the middle, and the boys at the front. For breakfast, we usually had a small loaf of bread with an egg or pâté and tea. At first, that was enough for me.

After breakfast, we had our first lessons. In the beginning, Maria went off somewhere with the sisters for care while I learned how to read and write and the basics of proper behavior. Afterward, we were sent back to our rooms to maintain the fire, review what we had learned, and complete our homework.

Lunch was an hour past noon. It was a bit more substantial. We would get a small loaf of bread, rice with roasted vegetables, rice and peas, beans, or something similar. With that, we usually drank water or tea. After lunch, there was a second lesson, this one focused on religion. We learned about great priests and their deeds and read children's Bibles.

Maria would once again be taken by the sisters after lunch and wouldn't return until dinner. After lunch, we were allowed to go back to our rooms, tend to the fire, and rest for half an hour. At two in the afternoon, we had to help maintain the monastery. At first, I just watched and learned, but soon I was given smaller tasks. I had to clean the bathrooms, scrub dishes, sweep the hallways, and more.

Once the work was done, we could return to our rooms, stoke the fire, and head to dinner. The end of dinner marked the end of the day, and we were sent to bed. No one checked if we actually went to sleep, but we weren't allowed to leave our rooms, and everything had to be quiet. That was the time when I could talk to Maria and teach her some things I felt she needed to know. I wanted to make her schooling easier because the teachers didn't tolerate ignorance.

This rhythm carried on through the first year, the second year, the third year... When, after five years of living in the monastery, I turned 10, everything changed.

On my birthday, Sister Eva came to explain that I was now old enough to move to a part of the monastery that would truly prepare me for life. I didn't mind; nothing about this place brought me joy. However, she then started explaining that Maria couldn't come with me—that she was too young and, besides, a girl. I still remember the shock of that moment, like someone had punched me in the chest. I knew I had never been to that part of the monastery, and no one from there had ever come here. That meant I wouldn't see her or be able to take care of her anymore.

I started yelling at Sister Eva, but she wouldn't budge. She told me to say goodbye and that we'd leave after breakfast. Maria cried and wouldn't let go of me. I started planning how we could run away on the way to breakfast, but at the door, we were met by Father Dominik, who stayed by us the entire time.

That morning, I didn't eat anything. Instead of taking me back to my room, Father Dominik led me toward the exit and into the boys' section of the monastery. Maria cried throughout breakfast and watching me with tearful eyes as I walked away.