I’ll tell you my story about how I found an unusual treasure.
It was in 2008. Summer. It was a successful working day, a day off for me (since I work shifts). Well, I’m wondering if I should go and look for what the people lost a couple of hundred years ago. And so it came true.
Armed with ICQ and a shovel. I arrived in an old village where I came across coins from Peter to Nicholas II. After walking around for a couple of hours without finding anything, not counting the plugs from the Cheburashka and the aluminum wire. A local Aboriginal woman comes up to me in the form of a granny who has lived and seen more than me, obviously. And says:
— Are you looking for FAQ there?..
— I’m looking for what was lost by people in ancient times — I answered.
— I lost my husband 20 years ago …. You will find?
— Granny, I’m looking for old coins, rings, buttons,” I answered, choking, but with a smile on my face.
— And you can find the ring. They argued with my grandfather, he took his ring and threw it into the garden. Then we searched for a long time and didn’t find it,” the granny said, squinting her eyes.
— Of course I will find it.
Let’s go to her garden and her house. After walking for an hour and a half, I found coins, crosses, a 2nd degree maternity medal, but there was still no ring. Having lost interest, I began to move towards my grandmother’s house where she sat in the shade and stared at me, telling me that there was no ring. Already approaching grandma, ASYa gives a signal, well, I think it’s a coin again. The saffron milk cap dug up the ring (it was my first gold, even though it was someone else’s). With a smile on my face, I go up to grandma and give her the ring, coin and medal. I say:
— Everything found in your garden is yours.
She took the ring, her eyes watering. I don’t need anything, but the ring is dear to me, as a memory of my grandfather. Take the rest for yourself. Wait, hold on. Granny went to the house and 5 minutes later she returned with a bag of eggs. To Magarych for the find. So we said goodbye to her. With a feeling of accomplishment, I got ready to go home. The way back to the car lay through a small shallow ravine, which I always avoided. And right on the slope of the ravine the MD gives out a clear signal. To avoid breaking the eggs, he put them aside and dug. The bottom of the cast iron appeared. “Okay,” I thought. Well, I started digging. I still remember the feelings. My pulse doubled, my blood pressure went through the roof, my hands began to shake, and I immediately wanted to go to the toilet. Raking the miners with his hands like a mine, he gently and carefully removed a small, medium-sized cast iron that was lying upside down, that is, upside down. A little light. I turn it over carefully. Burlap inside. I get it. Definitely not coins. But something square. I carefully unfold it. And there is a BOOK. At that time I had a phone that couldn’t take pictures. Only when I got home and dried it, I opened it and took a picture. So I came home with coins, a medal and eggs. Thanks grandma.
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This book was donated to the city local history museum. They said thank you. I visited grandma more than once and told her about the book. She explained that at the beginning of the 20th century, when the persecution of the church began, someone, in order not to part with this book, simply “buried” it in a ravine, in a cast iron pot. And I forgot or didn’t live long….
Sent by comrade Tikhon.
