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#1 I can't think of a story before I go to sleep. I have told my husband many stories, but during the day I feel like we are strangers. I don't believe him when he says he loves me, and I don't expect him until he returns.

#2 My mother would often take me and my sister up to the organ loft to wait for the sermon to be over. She would pedal around the orchard, ignoring us completely.

#3 My mother had one of her musical evenings. The maid laid out a white satin cloth, the delicate cups and plates with wreaths of pale violets and gold rims. The samovar gleamed. She would serve tea, Russian style, in tall glasses with slender long silver spoons.

#4 I remember listening to my mother sing with her friends, accompanied by Sniegs's song. It was a song about the comfort Christ can bring to those who long for him.