Language Lessons

My paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, tried to teach me her native Russian language. It was a struggle. I learned only a few phrases (blue-tongued insults and foodie terms), and I now regret that Russian is not among the languages I understand fluidly.

Perhaps my disinterest in the Russian lessons stemmed from the books Tatjana used to teach me:

The only thing familiar about this book cover is the set of bows in the girl's hair.

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The boys wear the mandatory red neckkerchiefs.

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Tatjana thought my understanding would improve if she penciled in the meaning of the words above them in Lithuanian.

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The last pages of the book remind children about what's really important. Look! The right-hand page is torn out. Was it a picture of Stalin that someone ripped up?
  

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A later edition in the same series is not more inspiring.

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It, too, has lessons for the little comrades.

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Here's the 1959 French language book with which Tatjana had much more success.

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That's one lurky wolf!