East

Father

MY DAUGHTER NYAMH ...my daughter Rose married Charles in a small ceremony in the front parlor of our house in Trondheim. Her sister Sara's wedding to Harald Soren had taken place several weeks before and was a much grander affair. But Rose and Charles both insisted on a simple celebration, and the joy in Rose's face shone no less than Sara's; in fact, it was that much brighter for being so hard won.

When Charles slipped the silver ring on Rose's thumb, I thought he had gotten confused—or that it was a custom peculiar to Fransk—but Rose seemed well pleased with her thumb-ring, and anyway, my attentions were diverted by the tears streaming down Eugenia's face. She had forgotten her handkerchief—or rather, I learned later, she had deliberately not carried one because of some superstition that if the mother of the bride brings a handkerchief to her daughter's wedding, a horrible tragedy will occur within the first year of the marriage. Or some such nonsense. So I had to lend her mine.