Short stories and love stories. Love stories Mini love stories

People from different countries talk about joyful moments in their lives... (translation of the article “Tiny Love Stories to Make You Smile” on fit4brain.com)

• Today I told my 18-year-old grandson that no one invited me to my high school graduation, so I didn't go. He showed up at my house this evening, dressed in a suit, and took me to his prom as his date.

• Today I was sitting in the park, eating my sandwich for lunch, when I saw a car with an elderly couple pull up to an old oak tree nearby. His windows rolled down and the sounds of good jazz could be heard. Then the man got out of the car, helped his companion out, took her a few meters away from the car, and for the next half hour they danced under an ancient oak tree to the sounds of beautiful melodies.

• Today I operated on a little girl. She needed the first blood type. We didn't have one, but her twin brother has the same group. I explained to him that this was a matter of life and death. He thought for a moment and then said goodbye to his parents. I didn't pay attention until we drew blood and he asked, "So when do I die?" He thought he was giving his life for her. Fortunately, they are both fine now.

• Today my dad is the best father anyone could ask for. He is my mother's loving husband (always makes her laugh), he has been to every one of my soccer games since I was 5 years old (I'm 17 now), and he provides for our entire family as a construction foreman. This morning, when I was looking through my father's toolbox for pliers, I found dirty folded paper at the bottom. It was an old journal entry written by my father exactly a month before the day I was born. It read: “I am eighteen years old, an alcoholic college dropout, a failed suicide victim, a victim of child abuse, and a criminal history of auto theft. And next month, “teen dad” will also appear on the list. But I swear that I will do everything right for my baby. I will be the father I never had." And I don't know how he did it, but he did it.

• Today my 8 year old son hugged me and said, “You are the best mom in the world.” I smiled and asked sarcastically, “How do you know? You haven’t seen all the mothers in the world.” But my son, in response to this, hugged me even tighter and said: “I saw it.” My world is you."

• Today I saw an elderly patient with severe Alzheimer's disease. He can rarely remember his own name and often forgets where he is and what he said a minute earlier. But by some miracle (and I think this miracle is called love), every time his wife comes to visit him, he remembers who she is and greets her with “Hello, my beautiful Kate.”

• Today my Labrador is 21 years old. He can barely stand up, can barely see or hear anything, and doesn't even have the strength to bark. But every time I enter the room, he wags his tail happily.

• Today is our 10th anniversary, but since my husband and I were recently unemployed, we agreed not to spend money on gifts. When I woke up this morning, my husband was already in the kitchen. I went downstairs and saw beautiful wild flowers all over the house. There were at least 400 of them, and he really didn't spend a penny.

• My 88 year old grandmother and her 17 year old cat are both blind. My grandmother is helped around the house by a guide dog, which is natural and normal. However, recently the dog began to lead the cat around the house. When a cat meows, the dog comes up and rubs its nose against it. Then the cat gets up and begins to follow the dog - to the food, to the “toilet”, to the chair in which she likes to sleep.

• Today my older brother donated his bone marrow for the 16th time to help me treat cancer. He communicated directly with the doctor, and I didn’t even know about it. And today my doctor told me that the treatment seems to be working: “The number of cancer cells has dropped dramatically in the last few months.”

• Today I was driving home with my grandfather when he suddenly made a U-turn and said: “I forgot to buy a bouquet of flowers for grandma. Let's go to the florist on the corner. It will only take a second." “What is so special today that you have to buy her flowers?” I asked. “Nothing special,” said grandfather. “Every day is special. Your grandmother loves flowers. They make her smile."
• Today I re-read the suicide letter I wrote on September 2, 1996, two minutes before my girlfriend knocked on the door and said, “I'm pregnant.” Suddenly I felt that I wanted to live again. Today she is my beloved wife. And my daughter, who is already 15 years old, has two younger brothers. From time to time I re-read this suicide letter to remind myself how grateful I am to have a second chance to live and love.

• Today, my 11-year-old son speaks fluent sign language because his friend Josh, with whom he grew up since infancy, is deaf. I love seeing their friendship grow stronger every year.

• Today I am the proud mother of a 17-year-old blind boy. Although my son was born blind, this did not stop him from studying excellently, becoming a guitarist (the first album of his band has already exceeded 25,000 downloads online) and a great guy for his girlfriend Valerie. Today his little sister asked him what he loved most about Valerie and he replied, “Everything. She's beautiful."

• Today I served an elderly couple in a restaurant. They looked at each other in such a way that it was immediately clear that they loved each other. When the man mentioned that they were celebrating their anniversary, I smiled and said, “Let me guess. You have been together for many, many years.” They smiled and the woman said, “Actually, no. Today is our fifth anniversary. We both outlived our spouses, but fate gave us another chance to love.”

• Today my dad found my little sister alive, chained to the wall in the barn. She was kidnapped near Mexico City five months ago. Authorities gave up searching for her two weeks after she disappeared. My mother and I came to terms with her death - we buried her last month. Our whole family and her friends came to the funeral. Everyone except her father - he was the only one who continued to look for her. “I love her too much to give up,” he said. And now she's home - because he really didn't give up.

• Today I found in our papers my mother’s old diary, which she kept in high school. It contained a list of qualities she hoped to someday find in her boyfriend. This list is an almost exact description of my father, but my mother only met him when she was 27.

• Today in the school chemistry lab, my partner was one of the most beautiful (and popular) girls in the whole school. And although I had not even dared to talk to her before, she turned out to be very simple and sweet. We chatted and laughed during class, but in the end we still got an A (she also turned out to be smart). After that we started communicating outside of class. Last week, when I found out that she had not yet chosen who to go to the school prom with, I wanted to invite her, but again I didn’t have the courage. And today, during lunch break in a cafe, she ran up to me and asked if I would like to invite her. So I did, and she kissed me on the cheek and said, “Yes!”

• Today my grandfather has an old photograph on his nightstand from the 60s of him and his grandmother laughing happily at some party. My grandmother died of cancer in 1999 when I was 7. Today I stopped by his house and my grandfather saw me looking at this photo. He came up to me, hugged me and said, “Remember, just because something doesn’t last forever doesn’t mean it’s not worth it.”

• Today I tried to explain to my two daughters, ages 4 and 6, that we would have to move from our four-bedroom house to an apartment with just two until I found a new well-paying job. The daughters looked at each other for a moment, and then the youngest asked: “Are we all going to move there together?” “Yes,” I replied. “Well, then there’s nothing wrong with it,” she said.
• Today I was sitting on the hotel balcony and saw a couple in love walking on the beach. It was clear from their body language that they were truly enjoying each other's company. As they came closer, I realized that they were my parents. And 8 years ago they almost got divorced.

• Today, when I tapped my wheelchair and told my husband, “You know, you are the only reason I would like to be free of this thing,” he kissed my forehead and replied, “Honey, I don’t even notice it.”

• Today my grandparents, who were in their nineties and had been together for 72 years, both died in their sleep, about an hour apart.

• Today my 6 year old autistic sister said her first word – my name.

• Today, at the age of 72, 15 years after my grandfather's death, my grandmother is remarrying. I am 17 years old, and in my entire life I have never seen her so happy. It’s so inspiring to see people at that age so in love with each other. It's never too late.

• On this day, almost 10 years ago, I stopped at an intersection and another car crashed into me. His driver was a student at the University of Florida - like me. He apologized cordially. While we were waiting for the police and the tow truck, we started talking and soon couldn’t help but laugh at each other’s jokes. We exchanged numbers and the rest is history. We recently celebrated our 8th anniversary.

• Today, as my 91-year-old grandfather (military doctor, war hero and successful businessman) lay in his hospital bed, I asked him what he considered his greatest achievement. He turned to his grandmother, took her hand and said: “The fact that I grew old with her.”

• Today, as I watched my 75-year-old grandparents in the kitchen having fun and laughing at each other's jokes, I realized that I had a brief glimpse of what true love is. I hope someday I will be able to find her.
• On this day, exactly 20 years ago, I risked my life to save a woman who was being swept away by the fast current of the Colorado River. This is how I met my wife - the love of my life.

• Today, on our 50th wedding anniversary, she smiled at me and said, “I wish I had met you sooner.”

Dear friend! On this page you will find a selection of small or rather even very small stories with deep spiritual meaning. Some stories are only 4-5 lines, some a little more. Every story, no matter how short, reveals a larger story. Some stories are light and humorous, others are instructive and suggest deep philosophical thoughts, but all of them are very, very sincere.

The short story genre is notable for the fact that in a few words a big story is created, which invites you to stretch your brains and smile, or pushes the imagination into a flight of thoughts and understandings. After reading just this one page, you may get the impression that you have mastered several books.

This collection contains many stories about love and the theme of death, so close to it, the meaning of life and the spiritual experience of every moment. People often try to avoid the topic of death, but in several short stories on this page it is shown from such an original side that it makes it possible to understand it in a completely new way, and therefore begin to live differently.

Happy reading and interesting emotional experiences!

“Recipe for female happiness” – Stanislav Sevastyanov

Masha Skvortsova dressed up, put on makeup, sighed, made up her mind - and came to visit Petya Siluyanov. And he treated her to tea and amazing cakes. But Vika Telepenina didn’t dress up, didn’t put on makeup, didn’t sigh - and simply came to Dima Seleznev. And he treated her to vodka with amazing sausage. So there are countless recipes for women’s happiness.

"In Search of Truth" - Robert Tompkins

Finally, in this remote, secluded village, his search ended. Truth sat in a dilapidated hut by the fire.
He had never seen an older, uglier woman.
- Are you - Really?
The old, wizened hag nodded solemnly.
- Tell me, what should I tell the world? What message to convey?
The old woman spat into the fire and answered:
- Tell them that I am young and beautiful!

"Silver Bullet" - Brad D. Hopkins

Sales have fallen for six straight quarters. The ammunition factory suffered catastrophic losses and was on the verge of bankruptcy.
Chief Executive Scott Phillips had no idea what was going on, but shareholders were sure to blame him.
He opened the desk drawer, took out a revolver, put the muzzle to his temple and pulled the trigger.
Misfire.
“Okay, let’s take care of the product quality control department.”

"Once Upon a Time There Was Love"

And one day the Great Flood came. And Noah said:
“Only every creature - in pairs! And for singles - ficus!!!"
Love began to look for a mate - Pride, Wealth,
Glory, Joy, but they already had companions.
And then Separation came to her and said:
"I love you".
Love quickly jumped into the Ark with her.
But Separation actually fell in love with Love and did not
I wanted to part with her even on earth.
And now Separation always follows Love...

“Sublime Sadness” – Stanislav Sevastyanov

Love sometimes brings sublime sadness. At dusk, when the thirst for love was completely unbearable, student Krylov came to the house of his beloved, student Katya Moshkina from a parallel group, and climbed up the drainpipe to her balcony to make a confession. On the way, he diligently repeated the words that he would say to her, and got so carried away that he forgot to stop in time. So I stood sad all night on the roof of the nine-story building until the firefighters removed it.

“Mother” – Vladislav Panfilov

The mother was unhappy. She buried her husband and son, and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. She remembered them small and thick-cheeked, and gray-haired, and hunched over. The mother felt like a lonely birch tree among a forest scorched by time. The mother begged to grant her death: any, the most painful one. Because she is tired of living! But I had to live on... And the only joy for the mother were the grandchildren of her grandchildren, just as big-eyed and chubby-cheeked. And she nursed them and told them all her life, and the lives of her children and her grandchildren... But one day giant blinding pillars grew around her mother, and she saw how her great-great-grandchildren were burned alive, and she herself screamed from the pain of melting skin and pulled to the sky withered yellow hands and cursed him for her fate. But the sky responded with a new whistle of cutting air and new flashes of fiery death. And in convulsions, the Earth began to stir, and millions of souls fluttered into space. And the planet tensed up in nuclear apoplexy and exploded into pieces...

The little pink fairy, swinging on an amber branch, chirped for the umpteenth time to her friends about how many years ago, flying to the other end of the universe, she noticed a bluish-green small planet sparkling in the rays of space. “Oh, she’s so wonderful! Oh! She is so beautiful! - the fairy cooed. “I've been flying over the emerald fields all day! Azure lakes! Silvery rivers! I felt so good that I decided to do some good deed!” And I saw a boy sitting alone on the shore of a tired pond, and I flew up to him and whispered: “I want to fulfill your deepest wish! Tell me it!” And the boy looked up at me with beautiful dark eyes: “It’s my mother’s birthday today. I want her, no matter what, to live forever!” “Oh, what a noble desire! Oh, how sincere it is! Oh, how sublime it is!” - the little fairies sang. “Oh, how happy is this woman who has such a noble son!”

“Lucky” – Stanislav Sevastyanov

He looked at her, admired her, trembled when he met: she sparkled against the background of his mundane everyday life, was sublimely beautiful, cold and inaccessible. Suddenly, having given her plenty of his attention, he felt that she too, as if melting under his scorching gaze, began to reach out to him. And so, without expecting it, he came into contact with her... He came to his senses when the nurse was changing the bandage on his head.
“You are lucky,” she said affectionately, “rarely anyone survives from such icicles.”

"Wings"

“I don’t love you,” these words pierced the heart, turning out the insides with sharp edges, turning them into minced meat.

“I don’t love you,” simple six syllables, only twelve letters that kill us, shooting merciless sounds from our lips.

“I don’t love you,” there is nothing worse when a loved one says them. The one for whom you live, for whom you do everything, for whom you can even die.

“I don’t love you,” my eyes darken. First, peripheral vision turns off: a dark veil envelops everything around, leaving a small space. Then flickering, iridescent gray dots cover the remaining area. It's completely dark. You only feel your tears, a terrible pain in your chest, squeezing your lungs like a press. You feel squeezed and try to take up as little space as possible in this world, to hide from these hurtful words.

“I don’t love you,” your wings, which covered you and your loved one in difficult times, begin to crumble with already yellowed feathers, like November trees under a gust of autumn wind. A piercing cold passes through the body, freezing the soul. Only two processes, covered with light fluff, already stick out from the back, but even this withers away from the words, crumbling into silver dust.

“I don’t love you,” the letters dig into the remains of the wings like a screeching saw, tearing them out of the back, tearing the flesh to the shoulder blades. Blood flows down the back, washing away the feathers. Small fountains gush out from the arteries and it seems that new wings have grown - bloody wings, light, airy and spraying.

“I don’t love you,” there are no more wings. The blood stopped flowing, drying into a black crust on the back. What used to be called wings are now only barely noticeable tubercles, somewhere at the level of the shoulder blades. There is no more pain and the words remain just words. A set of sounds that no longer cause suffering, that don’t even leave traces.

The wounds have healed. Time cures…
Time heals even the worst wounds. Everything passes, even the long winter. Spring will come anyway, melting the ice in the soul. You hug your loved one, the dearest person, and clasp him with snow-white wings. Wings always grow back.

- I love you…

“Ordinary scrambled eggs” – Stanislav Sevastyanov

“Go, leave everyone. It’s better to be alone: ​​I’ll freeze, I’ll be unsociable, like a bump in a swamp, like a snowdrift. And when I lie down in the coffin, don’t you dare come to me to sob to your heart’s content for your own good, bending over the fallen body left by the muse, and the pen, and the shabby, oil-stained paper...” Having written this, the sentimentalist writer Sherstobitov re-read what he had written thirty times, he added “cramped” in front of the coffin and was so imbued with the resulting tragedy that he could not stand it and shed a tear for himself. And then his wife Varenka called him to dinner, and he was pleasantly satisfied with vinaigrette and scrambled eggs with sausage. Meanwhile, his tears had dried up, and he, returning to the text, first crossed out “cramped”, and then instead of “laying down in a coffin” he wrote “laying down on Parnassus”, because of which all subsequent harmony went to dust. “Well, to hell with harmony, I’d better go and stroke Varenka’s knee...” Thus, an ordinary scrambled egg was preserved for the grateful descendants of the sentimentalist writer Sherstobitov.

"Destiny" - Jay Rip

There was only one way out, for our lives were intertwined in too tangled a knot of anger and bliss to solve everything any other way. Let's trust the lot: heads - and we will get married, tails - and we will part forever.
The coin was tossed. She tinkled, spun and stopped. Eagle.
We stared at her in bewilderment.
Then, with one voice, we said, “Maybe one more time?”

“Chest” – Daniil Kharms

A man with a thin neck climbed into the chest, closed the lid behind him and began to choke.

“Here,” said the man with a thin neck, gasping for breath, “I’m suffocating in the chest, because I have a thin neck.” The lid of the chest is closed and does not allow air to reach me. I will be suffocating, but I still won’t open the lid of the chest. Little by little I will die. I will see the struggle of life and death. The fight will take place unnaturally, with equal chances, because death naturally wins, and life, doomed to death, only fights in vain with the enemy, until the last minute, without losing vain hope. In this same struggle that will happen now, life will know the way to win: for this, life must force my hands to open the lid of the chest. Let's see: who wins? Only it smells awfully like mothballs. If life wins, I’ll cover the things in the chest with shag... So it begins: I can’t breathe anymore. I'm dead, that's clear! There is no salvation for me anymore! And there is nothing sublime in my head. I'm suffocating!...

Oh! What is it? Now something has happened, but I can't figure out what it is. I saw something or heard something...
Oh! Did something happen again? My God! I can't breathe. I think I'm dying...

What else is this? Why am I singing? I think my neck hurts... But where is the chest? Why do I see everything that is in my room? There's no way I'm lying on the floor! Where's the chest?

The thin-necked man rose from the floor and looked around. The chest was nowhere to be found. On the chairs and bed were things taken from the chest, but the chest was nowhere to be found.

The man with the thin neck said:
“This means that life has defeated death in a way unknown to me.”

"Wretched" - Dan Andrews

They say evil has no face. Indeed, no feelings were reflected on his face. There was not a glimmer of sympathy on him, but the pain was simply unbearable. Can't he see the horror in my eyes and the panic on my face? He calmly, one might say, carried out his dirty work professionally, and at the end he politely said: “Rinse your mouth, please.”

"Dirty laundry"

One married couple moved to live in a new apartment. In the morning, as soon as she woke up, the wife looked out the window and saw a neighbor who was hanging out washed clothes to dry.
“Look at her dirty laundry,” she told her husband. But he was reading the newspaper and did not pay any attention to it.

“She probably has bad soap, or she doesn’t know how to do laundry at all. We should teach her.”
And so, every time the neighbor hung out the laundry, the wife was surprised at how dirty it was.
One fine morning, looking out the window, she cried out: “Oh! Today the laundry is clean! She must have learned how to do laundry!”
“No,” said the husband, “I just got up early today and washed the window.”

“I couldn’t wait” – Stanislav Sevastyanov

It was an unprecedented wonderful moment. Disdaining unearthly forces and his own path, he froze to look at her for the future. At first she took a very long time to take off her dress and fiddle with the zipper; then she let her hair down and combed it, filling it with air and silky color; then she pulled at the stockings, trying not to get them caught with her nails; then she hesitated with the pink lingerie, so ethereal that even her delicate fingers seemed rough. Finally she undressed all - but the month was already looking out the other window.

"Wealth"

One day a rich man gave a poor man a basket full of trash. The poor man smiled at him and left with the basket. I emptied it, cleaned it, and then filled it with beautiful flowers. He returned to the rich man and returned the basket to him.

The rich man was surprised and asked: “Why are you giving me this basket filled with beautiful flowers if I gave you garbage?”
And the poor man replied: “Everyone gives to the other what he has in his heart.”

“Don’t let good things go to waste” – Stanislav Sevastyanov

“How much do you charge?” - “Six hundred rubles per hour.” - “And in two hours?” - “A thousand.” He came to her, she smelled sweetly of perfume and skill, he was worried, she touched his fingers, his fingers were disobedient, crooked and absurd, but he clenched his will into a fist. Returning home, he immediately sat down at the piano and began to consolidate the scale he had just learned. The instrument, an old Becker, was given to him by his previous tenants. My fingers ached, my ears felt stuffy, my willpower grew stronger. The neighbors were banging on the wall.

“Postcards from the Other World” – Franco Arminio

Here the end of winter and the end of spring are approximately the same. The first roses serve as a signal. I saw one rose when they were taking me in an ambulance. I closed my eyes, thinking about this rose. In front, the driver and nurse were talking about a new restaurant. There you can eat your fill, and the prices are meager.

At some point I decided that I could become an important person. I felt that death was giving me a reprieve. Then I plunged headlong into life, like a child with his hand in a stocking with baptismal gifts. Then my day came. Wake up, my wife told me. Wake up, she kept repeating.

It was a fine sunny day. I didn't want to die on a day like this. I always thought that I would die at night, with dogs barking. But I died at noon when a cooking show started on TV.

They say people most often die at dawn. For years I woke up at four in the morning, stood up and waited for the fateful hour to pass. I opened a book or turned on the TV. Sometimes he went outside. I died at seven in the evening. Nothing special happened. The world has always caused me vague anxiety. And then this anxiety suddenly passed.

I was ninety-nine. My children came to the nursing home just to talk to me about my centenary celebrations. None of this bothered me at all. I didn't hear them, I only felt my fatigue. And he wanted to die so as not to feel her either. This happened in front of my eldest daughter. She gave me a piece of apple and talked about a cake with the number one hundred on it. The one should be as long as a stick, and the zeros should be like bicycle wheels, she said.

My wife is still complaining about the doctors who didn’t treat me. Although I always considered myself incurable. Even when Italy won the World Cup, even when I got married.

By the age of fifty, I had the face of a man who could die any minute. I died at ninety-six, after a long agony.

What I always enjoyed was the nativity scene. Every year he turned out more and more elegant. I displayed it in front of the door of our house. The door was constantly open. I divided the only room with red and white tape, like when repairing roads. I treated those who stopped to admire the nativity scene with beer. I talked in detail about papier-mâché, musk, sheep, wise men, rivers, castles, shepherds and shepherdesses, caves, the Baby, the guiding star, electrical wiring. Electrical wiring was my pride. I died alone on Christmas night, looking at the nativity scene sparkling with all the lights.

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It is easy to love each other when adversity and difficulties pass you by. However, in real life, every couple’s relationship is tested for strength at least once.

website collected 10 stories about people whose love is not afraid of trials.

One evening I realized how much you need to love women. In the underground passage, I helped my grandmother with her bags to go upstairs. She thanked him, then, after hesitating a little, asked to be escorted to the courtyard of the house. It turned out that my help was needed to get there quickly, since her husband meets her every time she leaves the house. A practically blind old man with a cane could barely move around the yard. He was going to meet his beloved and pick up packages from her from the store. I immediately remembered how often I refused to pick up my girlfriend from the store or from the train because I was too lazy.

At the age of 19 I lost my leg. Then I was dating a girl, we had love. She unexpectedly went abroad, she said, to earn money for us. I wanted to believe it, but I knew she was lying. At one point I told her that I wanted to leave her (she was better off). About a month later I’m sitting at home, the doorbell rings. I took the crutches, opened the door, and there she was! Before he could say anything, he received a slap in the face, could not resist and fell. She sat down next to me, hugged me and said: “Idiot, I didn’t run away from you. Tomorrow we are going to the clinic to try on a prosthesis for you. I went to earn money for you. You’ll be able to walk normally again, understand?” In this moment I had a lump in my throat, I couldn’t say a word... I pressed her tighter and just cried.

My older sister got married. Very often her husband is capricious and makes a dissatisfied face, saying, “I won’t eat this: she didn’t cut the meat the way he likes it.” At these moments I remember my sister’s ex-boyfriend: she cooked chicken liver, and he always ate it, saying that he had never tasted anything tastier. And then it turned out that he had an allergy to the liver. He loved his sister madly.

After giving birth, my wife’s vision began to deteriorate greatly. She had been wearing glasses before, but then it got really bad. I didn’t have the strength to watch her suffer, so I took on extra work and found income on the Internet. I worked like an immortal pony and didn’t get enough sleep for almost a year. And here it is - it’s done! I saved up for my wife to get laser vision correction. She recently returned from the hospital and was surprised by everything around her. And I don’t care about this year, about the energy expended and sleepless nights! I have a healthy son and a happy wife, and that's the main thing.

At the age of 18, I was diagnosed with a small brain tumor. I thought I had cancer and would die soon, so I told my boyfriend that I would understand if he left me. To which he turned everything into a joke and replied that he could only throw me through his hip (he is a wrestler) if I started such a conversation again. As a result, the tumor turned out to be benign. Now I am 21 years old, we have been married for 2 years, we are raising a daughter. I will never forget his support in such a difficult moment for me.

Lately Mom has heart problems, I’ve been living with her for a week, my father has been on a business trip for a month. He was supposed to return yesterday. In the evening we sit in the kitchen, I look at her: thin, pale, beautiful. There is an icy calm on his face, and his hands are trembling. The keys are in the lock, dad is back. Mom runs to the door, clutches him, cries and says something unintelligible. He holds her close to him, and I stand to the side and smile. His love is her most important medicine.

I met a guy on the Internet. Cheerful, educated, good-natured. Plus, he has a very nice appearance. We talked on Skype for several years. After I realized that I love him. He reciprocated, but was afraid to meet. She insisted on her opinion and came to him a thousand kilometers away. It turned out that the young man was disabled. Can't walk. We spent three months together. We will submit an application to the registry office soon. For me he is the best, my Professor X!

• I'm infertile. The first girl I was in a serious relationship with, I didn’t talk about it for a long time, I was afraid, and when the truth was revealed, she just left. I went through a year of depression, then there was another relationship, but it ended in nothing. About six months ago I met a girl, fell deeply in love, kept silent about my problem, yesterday I told everything. I was ready for anything, and she looked at me and said that in the future it would be possible to take a child from the orphanage. I burst into tears, I want to marry her.
• We recently moved to an apartment in St. Petersburg and started renovating it. When they dismantled the floor, they found a niche with letters: a woman, Anna, wrote to her husband Eugene, how they live with three children, how they survive, or rather, about how the city does not give up, about how they are all waiting to meet. The last letter struck a chord with me: “We are really waiting for you, Zhenechka. I can’t write anymore, I’m out of pencil, but I’ll think about you. Feel us, look at the sky and feel."
• I met with the most ordinary beautiful girl, spoiled by a good life. It was easy and fun to be with her, and the means allowed her to satisfy her whims. He proposed to her, she agreed. But just a couple of weeks later I had an accident and was partially paralyzed. The pampered girl was my nurse, a loving woman and a reliable friend for several months., despite how helpless and pathetic I was. She sold a lot of things that I thought she couldn't live without. I learned to cook because I needed special nutrition. She forbade me to apologize. Not a shadow of doubt, disgust or fear flashed on her face during all this time.

Love stories, if it is true love, are not so easy to find. Just as it is difficult to find a person without weaknesses, it is also difficult to find love, without the vices of passion and selfishness. But there is love in this world! We will try to fill this section with love stories - from our time, and from more distant times.
All these short stories about love, except for the story by Yulia Voznesenskaya, are documentary, true evidence of how beautiful love can be. Love stories you've been looking for.

Love Story: Love is stronger than death

"Love story"

Love of a Russian soldier

Love Story: Man is like a blooming garden

"Isaiah, rejoice!"

Love Story: A Boring Marriage

Love Story: Abdullah's Beloved Wife

Moments of love

Margarita and Alexander Tuchkov: fidelity to love

“The Tale of Peter and Fevronia”: a test of love

Together on an Ice Floe (Little Summer Tale)

Beginning of autumn. The tops of the trees are covered with a light gilding, and lonely yellowed leaves are falling. The grass has dried up and turned yellow over the summer from the hot rays of the sun. Early morning.

Sergei Mikhailovich walked leisurely along the path of the square, heading to the tram stop. He hadn’t used public transport for a long time, he used his car to get to work, and then... he took the car to a car repair shop for a preventive inspection for three days, and this happened on weekdays.

“Today is my ex-wife’s birthday, I should congratulate him, drop by after work and bring a bouquet of chrysanthemums, she loves them very much,” he caught himself thinking that the “ex” thought about his wife, although she left him two months ago. During this time he did not see her, only heard a voice on the telephone receiver. It’s interesting to see what she looks like: has she looked younger? Or maybe she’ll come back to their spacious apartment, bake pancakes again in the morning and brew her signature coffee?

They lived for more than thirty years, or more precisely, thirty-three. And then, out of the blue, so it seemed to him, the woman he loved announced that she was going to live in another apartment, away from him... They rented out a small apartment. Previously, it was intended for the youngest son, he went to another city to study, then stayed there and got married. The eldest son had long lived with his family in a spacious cottage on the outskirts of the city, raising three children.

“I’m tired of your “whining”, tired of serving and taking care of you, listening to your dissatisfaction. At least in my old age I want to live for myself, in peace,” said the wife, collecting her things.

Having recently retired, Galina did not sit at home, started an online business, signed up for a fitness center, and began to pay more attention to her appearance and health.

“That’s it, now I’m a free person and I want to live the rest of my years for myself. I gave many years to the children, to you - to your whims, washing, cleaning and your other whims. Helped raise grandchildren. Now I have a pension, I have additional income, and I do not depend on you financially, and your prohibitions do not concern me. Wherever I want, that’s where I go on vacation; wherever I want, that’s where I go on Sunday. “I’m leaving,” the wife said loudly, slamming the door, leaving her husband perplexed.

The right tram arrived. Sergei Mikhailovich squeezed inside. Early morning, townspeople are rushing to work. He has to walk four stops to his office - a large transport company, where he has worked as a safety engineer for many years.

The pungent smell of women's perfume filled his nose.

“Man, don’t snuggle close to me,” the young woman said, turning around and looking into his eyes, she smiled sweetly.

- Sorry.

“Don’t forget to drop by Galina’s with flowers in the evening, maybe she’s already had enough of freedom and will return home.” In the morning he called her and congratulated her on her birthday. The wife listened silently and hung up.

“Man, you are stuck to me,” said the same woman.

- Sorry. There are a lot of people.

“Then I will turn to face you,” the stranger said in a pleasant voice, turned to face Sergei and began to look into his eyes.

He began to examine the young woman: she looked about thirty to thirty-five years old, had a good figure, a beige cap hid her hair, bright red plump lips attracted the eye.

“A pleasant face, and the eyes glow with happiness. The pungent smell of perfume, I could have applied less of it to myself,” thought Sergei Mikhailovich.

- My stop. “I’m going out,” he said quietly.

The woman took a step to the side, letting him pass forward:

“And I still have two more stops to go,” she said casually.

At the end of the working day, Sergei Mikhailovich called a taxi: “Go to a flower shop, buy a bouquet of flowers and visit your wife to congratulate her on her birthday,” thought the abandoned husband.

Here he is already standing near the front door of the apartment with a bouquet of large yellow chrysanthemums.

Doorbell.

The man entered quietly. Silence.

- Well, who is there? Go into the room. I'm here.

Sergei entered. There was a large open suitcase in the middle of the room. Galina, dressed in a new tracksuit, was fussing around him, putting things away.

- Good evening! Here, I came to congratulate you.

- Well, you called in the morning? – the wife said without looking back at him. - There was no need to worry. And how did you remember this? When we lived together, I rarely remembered, I kept waiting for my reminder. Oh, yellow chrysanthemums? Have you forgotten that I love them? – Looking at the bouquet, the woman was surprised.

- Where are you going? Where are the guests? Not celebrating your birthday?

- Tomorrow we will celebrate. I'm flying to Montenegro for a month. I'll live in Europe. They're waiting for me there. I have a plane soon.

-Where are you going? What about me, my children, my grandchildren?

- And you? The children are adults, the grandchildren have parents. The children congratulated me on the phone; they know that I am leaving for a month.

“I thought you would come home.” I thought you were bored...

“I said that I would never live with you under any circumstances.” Enough - I was your servant for thirty years and carried out all your orders. Place flowers in a vase. Why are you standing? Go to the kitchen yourself, pour water into a vase and set it down. I’m used to having a nanny look after you... How’s the apartment? There’s probably dirt all around, you’re not fit for anything - in order to drive a nail into a wall or repair a faucet, I had to “saw” you for several days, and then do it myself.

-What orders are you saying? We lived happily in love for many years. Come back, I love you and miss you. The apartment is empty without you.

- But not me. I’m free now, you don’t need to be a servant in the morning, cook food the way you love, invite guests – those you like... Now I run in the park in the mornings and play sports. And everything was just to be your way; my opinion was rarely taken into account.

– I invited the concierge, she comes once a week and cleans the apartment.

- Do you love it? You’re just used to me, and you don’t have enough of a maid... Live as you want. I'm very happy without you.

-Have you got a man? – he asked quietly.

– Why are you needed... whiners and dictators. Nowadays, you men are worse than one-year-old children: capricious, picky and always dissatisfied with everything. I am happy that I can do what I want, no one tells me, no one tyrannies or asks - why did you buy this gold ring, you already have a lot of them?! You don’t have to report to anyone about your expenses and pastime. So love left, about ten years ago. And I was a fool for putting up with you and your selfishness for so many years. Now I just realized how good I am without you!

Help me lower my suitcase, the taxi has arrived.

Summer. An electric train traveling from a multimillion-dollar city along a given route.

In the half-empty carriage of the electric train, the cheerful laughter of a group of middle-aged women could be heard. Tipsy pensioners talked loudly, joked and laughed, attracting the attention of incoming passengers.

Stop. Several passengers entered the carriage. They immediately noticed the cheerful and noisy company.

- Oh, Lyuska, is that you? – asked one of the women who entered the carriage. “I haven’t seen you for a hundred years.”

- Hello, Lenka. Yes it's me. That's right, we haven't seen each other for fifteen years. We haven’t changed, we’re still just as young and cheerful. “Have a seat with our company,” answered the most cheerful woman from the company.

-What are you celebrating? Everyone is cheerful and happy. Lena, introduce your friends or neighbors?

– These are my friends, we are going to my dacha. There we will continue the holiday and reap the harvest. Lida, Ira, Sonya.

- What's the celebration? – Elena asked again.