Mosaic: A Child's Recollections of the Russian Revolution
My first realization that something unusual and very terrible had happened in Russia occurred one day while I was sitting on the floor of our salon and drawing a picture of an imaginary "firebird." I had heard the word Bolsheviks many times, but it had no meaning for me. Suddenly my father rushed in and took my mother into his arms. He whispered something in her ear and she broke into tears. Immediately I was gathered into his arms and our small family went to our Russian church.
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