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Please note: This is a companion version & not the original book. Book Preview: #1 I had walked holding my thumbs folded into my fists, a Russian superstition: hold your thumbs and think of someone to bring them good luck. I had watched as Mama went down into the metro station with the stench of burned rubber.#2 I was placed in a children s asylum, and while I was there, I didn t speak about my mother. I was numb, and I wanted to free myself from the hatred that had consumed me.#3 I walk to the forest near my old home. I sit on an old apple tree by the pond. I write a letter to Mama. I forget the unimportant things in quietude, and I meet what has been lost.#4 I remember my old landlady at the summer dacha in Leningrad, who had a tattoo of the word Mama on her shoulder. I wanted to explain to my American friend that people need to live in houses with a lawn and a garden, so they can plant flowers.