Since childhood an American
of Russian origin had been madly
in love with the famous Russian
kerchiefs which were produced for
more than 200 years in the town
of Pavlovsky Posad. Earlier he had
seen them only in pictures. No one
could have foretold that when at the
dawn of Perestroika he arrived in
that very town, the provincial quiet
would be disturbed by a real drama
(a love story that you come across
only in fairy tales). In a way it was
destined to happen because the
painter Anna was a person of rare
outward and inward beauty full of
purity and light. The only trouble was
that her husband, the best kerchief
printer wouldn’t survive without her.
But we can’t give orders to our own
hearts… or can we?