The Harvest of Dandelions

Mordec hadn't realized he was in the Kivpivka collective until the soldiers had pointed out the town growing nearer, swallowing whole, the land and people for many kilometers. The setting sun made it seem like the whole place was ablaze in hell fire. For the first time since the soldiers came, he now felt afraid. It seemed that all of Ukraine wept in death as Stalin clapped them in chains for his plans of industrialization. Holding his daughter to his chest, Mordec trudged on in the dark to their new home and fields. It was a warm May night when his door was thrown open, and he and his last child were forced out, with many others, to go on the long trek to Kivpivka. With a Soviet rifle at his back, he packed what little he could bring with him.

This meant nothing to little Alina. She was content with most anything, and this brought great joy to Mordec. She would sit in the doorway. Bathing in the warm sun while Mordec harvested his crops, and though the labor was intensive, coming inside to see her smile gave him strength.

Entering the town gates, he could only see hatred on the faces of the people who were already there, forced from their homes just as he was. Hatred for this place, hatred for the soldiers and their rifles, and the greatest hatred was reserved for the lack of meat and fat on their bodies. Ukraine was dead, and only the USSR was to be allowed to live. Shoved by a soldier, he and his group were pushed along to a section in the center of the town. Shacks that seemed to be recently vacated stood, huddled together, as if the houses themselves hadn't enough insulation to be warm.

Men were shouting all around him orders that he could barely understand before he was shoved into one of the nearby shacks by a soldier. Mordec slipped off his light coat of wool and used it to wrap up his little Alina. The hut was bare except for a single small hay cot in one corner, but it reeked with the smell of dry blood and decay. Shivering, Mordec tried his best to ignore the stench of this place and focus on other things, happy things. This wasn't the best situation to be in of course, but he supposed it could always be worse. In fact, this hut wasn't too different from his home back in the village, now that he thought about it. It wasn't all that much smaller, the only differences being the horrid smell, and how close his neighbors were. It would be enough for his little flower of a daughter, and so it would have to be enough for him.

It was getting even darker now, and tiredness began to claim him for the first time since he left the village. Though the smell made his eyes water, it was something to be endured. He held Alina to him and laid down to get as much sleep as he could. Drifting off to sleep, his stomach suddenly growled. But it did not matter, he could likely get food in the morning. It was still dark out when he was awoken by the yells of more soldiers outside. He grabbed Alina and listened closer to what the men were saying. Holding his daughter to his chest, he peeked out the rickety wood door – soldiers and people were running about, more shouting. Eventually, the men started lining up in rows as soldiers started to inspect them. Mordec

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thought it best to go join them. Slipping through the people running on the dirt road, he joined the line at the end.

A particularly mean-looking soldier stopped once he reached Mordec. His complexion was paler than that of the other soldiers. The man looked down at the small child clutched in Mordec's arms, his black beady eyes narrowing. He held out his arm, clearly expecting something. At first Mordec didn't understand what he meant, and then it dawned that he wanted Alina. Mordec froze. "No." He pulled her back, closer to his chest.

Several more soldiers came to see what was happening, once more the man demanded the little girl, and once more Mordec refused. Mordec was struck several times upon the back of the head, and Alina was ripped from his arms. He crumpled to the ground, trying to protect his head from the beating. His screams echoed for Alina to come back to him, but it was as if none had heard him. It seemed like it was hours before the soldiers left his bruised body on the ground. Opening his eyes, Mordec saw the villagers around him, trying to avoid his gaze. Eventually, two of them helped him to his feet and a hoe was roughly placed in his hand.