"I can't take care of her any longer…" Eyes were wiped of their discharge and that tiny body was regarded with a gaze captured in the steady hands of pain. "I just don't have enough money. If she stays with me, she'll likely starve to death…" More emotion leaked from the mother's breaking heart. "I don't want to give her up, but I can't watch her die."

"Katya…"

"You'll take care of her, won't you? She's your daughter…I've tried so hard, but I can't keep her on breast milk forever. She needs more nutrients and I have hardly enough to feed myself. I need your help…You're her father. You won't allow her a grave, will you?"

"No…Of course not."

"Thank you." More embers of potent internal thought spread easily against the mother's palms.

"Will you be coming to see her at all?"

"I'm lucky I was even able to come this far…Will you look at me?" That woman was dressed head to toe in worn grey fabric, looking as though it was converted from something ancient and dying to create a new vestment, the ensemble composed beneath the wearer's tired hands and a rusted needle. The garment resembled something of a blanket, but was indeed intended as attire. "I don't even look like myself."

The man holding that peaceful child moved his doubtful eye to that visage, resting so easily inside a blanket weaved of serenity.

"…So, you're abandoning her?"

"I'm not abandoning her! I don't have a choice but to give her to you…Do you think I want to leave my child? She's the most beautiful baby in the entire world."

The father did not hold a single word inside his mouth.

"I'll try to see her…I doubt that my visits will be frequent; but I'll try. Please don't assume that I don't love her, because I do; with my entire heart, I do…"

"I'm sorry."

It was the mother's turn to remain speechless.

"…What should I do?"

"…I don't know. I have a bag of her things with me." A rather large sack was taken from the mother's shivering feet and offered to a new custody, the owner of that small set of possessions feeling unknown weight impose upon his innocent palm.

"There are quite a few things in here."

"Yes…I have a blanket and bottles. They've hardly been used. There's a few diapers there as well, and a toy of hers. She doesn't really need a crib yet…I kept her wrapped up in a basket. She seemed happy there."

The baffled father once again set his attention to his daughter, an entire cosmos lying upon his arm.

"She's not too hard to take care of. If you warm some milk for her, she'll likely go to sleep, and she's usually kept on a sort of schedule. I usually tuck her in at about seven and she takes quite a few naps throughout the day…If she begins to cry, just rock her back and forth and speak to her softly." Tears took their inhabitance against her flesh another instance. "She also likes to have her feet touched…And you can bathe her inside a large kitchen pot. I put a little of her soap inside that bag as well, but there isn't a lot left…I'm certain you can find whatever you need at the market…"

The father thought in silence expansive moments, lips seeming to contract into all types of odd shapes. "What is her name?"

"Anna…But I tend to call her Anya…"

"Anya?"

The man was given an affirmative nod.

"Well alright…Is there anything else I should know?"

"…She likes to hold onto fingers. Please don't pull your hand away when she touches yours."

"I won't…"

"Thank you…" It seemed as though the mother would begin another rough cycle of inconsolable tears. "May I say good bye to her?"

"Of course…"

That endearing universe of sleeping flesh was placed back into the arms of her mother, who held her so tightly as all her bleeding loss spilled as precious wine against white cloth. The father was well convinced the child's sleep would be interrupted due to those needy arms.

And it was.

Immediate complaint came from that tiny creature's mouth, yet the cause did not stop the symptoms she had engendered.

"I love you little one. And I'm so sorry…"

Those distraught noises seemed to slowly dissolve and that miniscule life came to a relaxed state of consciousness; her eyes wide and her mouth gently shut.

"I hope I'll see you again, Anya…But you father is going to take care of you now…Behave." A final kiss was granted to the soft blond collection straw adhering to that little nymph's forehead, and a happy noise leapt from her mouth. Legs moved beneath all her heavy coding, and for the second time, she was surrendered with great discomfort to stronger arms.

"Thank you, Ivan. Please take good care of her…"

And the mother left that still growing jewel to the co-creator of that very work, sobs dripping from her mouth and remaining as the thickest and most uncomfortable of honey, their means nearly to drown her. Eyes were censored by all her loss and regret, and each one of those abandoned dreams kept so securely for her daughter. Those items of such innumerable value took their livelihood inside a new set of larger hands, and within that seemingly short transaction, three lives had molded into drastic new figures. The unsuspecting father had been hung without breath by his ankles amongst the highest of clouds, and with stunned nerves and wide open eyes, he awaited a tragic fall.

For a lengthily moment, his stare clung to his new possession as snow drenched that barren earth as a wintry cloak. His irises connected with hers, and he found himself looking inside a breathing mirror, those gems the same hue and tone; perhaps everything. But hers teemed with light and purity, the kind only an ignorant sort of youth could bring.

And it was then that the entire world gave Ivan its weight.

A whole human was now completely dependent upon him, and he did not have a single idea of where his first step should occur.

The father watched as the girl squirmed uncomfortably within the cold; and immediately, he turned towards that gaping door.

"Let's get you inside…"

The porthole closed and two lives began.