It is very early in the morning and freezing cold in the bus station when i suddenly see a small girl staring at me couriously. She pulls her mother's hand and asks in a whisper:
-Kto je to? (Who is that?)
The mother whispers back into her ear but loud enough for me to hear:
-To je Katkina mamina. (That is Katka's mommny).
Aha, that's from were she know me, from the playground with Katka. Her face lightens, she smiles, she waves at me, shouts and tells me she is going to kindergarden. I wave back and smile. The other mother and me look at each other and smile.
Katkina mamina, how beautiful aand sweet it sounds, how my soul laughes with gladness every time i hear these words. I have been called many things in my life, beautiful things and ugly things, i have had many titles but never felt so good as when i was called Katkina mamina. It is a name i bear with pride.
There is no day, hour, minute, second in which i do not thank God that He send Katka into my life, and He made me Katkina mamina.