She dreads the short, cold days of winter.
She cannot bear that darkness, that endless
icy darkness called winter, it’s an emptiness
she says no fire can dispel.

Her brave soldier had a deep wound - 
a severe wound that never healed - 
instead it simply grew - oh how it grew - 
it festered. How could he live?

She never spoke of it.
Sundays she’d bake a cake.
All she ever wanted was butter.
Pure butter.

Meanwhile, Dr Anderson gave us a beautiful present.

I live high up in the mountains.
In summer it’s hard to believe that winter exists.

These cherries are so sweet -  have you ever - 
    such sweet cherries - 
Have you ever tasted anything like this?

Whenever the suns shines we take a walk
but when we see a storm coming we stay at home.

Won’t you give your child a glass of fresh, sweet milk
and a piece of apple pie?

Sugar and butter: that’s all we ever dream of - 
               Sugar and butter - 
we’ll never forget our hunger - 

New friends are not always good friends.
In big cities the rich often have to live near the poor.

I know something more but it’s not nice.