Brought by fate to the Vyatka land, the poetess Rachel spent her entire life striving for her origins, for the promised land in search of strength and a source of creativity. The spirit's journey was not without sacrifice. “You are a king, live alone,” Pushkin admonished the poets, having understood this indisputable tribute to talent. She had no family, no children, no place of her own, and suffered from tuberculosis. Her life, repeating the fate of great poets, became a bright short flash in the Russian revolutionary turmoil, the domestic and civil war and Israeli construction. Only before her death she was treated kindly by the love of her compatriots, who simply called her Rachel. This simplicity is worth a lot. The circle is closed: named after her foremother, she merged with her in the memory of her descendants.