Mira is a smart girl. She read thousands of books and would complete her studies because she usually got what she wanted. But she was bad at handicrafts and knitting. My grandmother, Greta, would have been horrified if she saw the threads stuck to her needle. I forgot many things, and other things got jumbled up in my head, but when I touched the needle, my fingers remembered everything. Now I sit on the chair where Mrs. Ludmilla sat long ago and watch the needle thread its way through the threads. Memories keep coming back to me; some bad, but some beautiful, and I want to live for them.