Your son has such an ugly wife!” the neighbor whispered to me once. But what happened next silenced her forever…
I had just returned from Sochi, where I’d been visiting my son during their quiet wedding ceremony. My heart was full—not because of fancy parties or loud celebrations, but because I saw something real. Kolya was genuinely happy, and Olga, his bride, was a kind, warm-hearted, and radiant soul. They got married simply, just family present, celebrating at home. For them, feelings mattered far more than show.
Back home in our small village near Ryazan—where everyone’s business is everyone’s business—I barely put the kettle on before the neighbor, Arina Petrovna, showed up. She was the same woman who always poked her nose into other people’s lives.
“Well, how was the wedding? Did you see the bride’s dress? How many guests did you have?” she asked, eager to gossip.
“There wasn’t a wedding,” I replied. “Just a registry signing and a quiet dinner with close family.”
“Too cheap, huh? My Vadik had a party at the ‘Golden Apple’—three hundred guests!” she bragged.
I stayed silent. Her Vadik was on his fourth marriage already, but she loved boasting about that grand celebration she hadn’t even attended. He barely visited her once every five years.
“Well, my son has real love,” I said softly. “No fuss, just true from the heart.”
“Who’s your daughter-in-law anyway? Does she even work?”
“She’s a nurse. They met on a ship — Kolya’s still at maritime school.”
“Ha! He’ll dump her soon enough. Not the right match for him.”
Her words squeezed my heart, but I didn’t argue. I just closed the door. Since then, we barely spoke.
Six months later, Kolya’s contract ended, and he and Olga moved in with me. I was so happy to have my family together. Olga found a job at the local hospital; Kolya worked in a workshop. They lived in harmony and made the house their own.
But Arina Petrovna wasn’t done. She kept dropping “friendly” advice:
“Well, your son sure found himself a fright! A scar across her cheek — beauty! Your guy’s a catch, and then there’s her…”
“That’s his love!” I snapped. “And by the way, she’s a golden-hearted person!”
Olga’s scar was visible, but her spirit shone so brightly that soon the whole village felt it. A nurse sent from heaven — ready to help, no matter the hour or weather.
Then, a miracle happened.
One late evening, an old shed near the hospital caught fire. People rushed to help, bringing whatever they could. Suddenly, someone shouted:
“There’s a child inside! A little girl is trapped!”
Without hesitation, Olga ran into the flames. Moments later, she came out carrying five-year-old Nastya in her arms, just as the roof collapsed behind her. She saved the child at the very last moment.
That night, even Arina Petrovna fell silent.
Olga stayed by Nastya’s bedside until morning. The girl had inhaled smoke but was alive. Through tears, the parents thanked Olga:
“You saved our most precious treasure…”
“I was saved once, too,” Olga whispered. “Back in the nineties, in Chechnya. Our home was bombed. I was seven. A Russian soldier carried me out. He died himself but gave me his cross to wear. I’ve worn it ever since.”
She took off the cross. Nastya’s grandfather, Nikolai Semenovich, suddenly turned pale:
“That… that’s my cross. I gave it to my son. He went missing in the war…”
Tears streamed down his face. For thirty years, he hadn’t known how his son died. It turned out — he died saving a little girl. And now that girl saved his granddaughter.
“He’s yours,” he said to Olga. “You earned him.”
A month later, we visited the soldier’s grave. Nikolai Semenovich stood silently, clutching flowers. His tears were not of sorrow, but of gratitude — thankful that fate had revealed the truth.
Arina Petrovna never dared to come close. She only watched from behind the fence.
The truth is: kindness and courage matter far more than appearances. A scar can be a mark of heroism. And a son’s love is no reason for petty neighborly gossip.
That’s my “ugly” daughter-in-law — the best thing that ever happened to our family.