ABSTRACT
MOSCOW USED TO BE a restful island for my soul—a place where I could refuel with new energy. My friends spoiled me with their love and attention. Their problems became mine, and we solved them together. I was moved to hear “When you come the sun begins to shine” or to receive a New Year’s card with the message, “If you disappear, Lois, my life will be dark, awful, and without miracles.” It was gratifying to be needed.
