Everything that others do, he does very skilfully and well. Does
not understand much yet.
The fifth, Masha [Mary] is two years old, the one whose
birth nearly cost Sonya her life. A weak and sickly child. Body
white as milk, curly white hair; big, queer blue eyes, queer by
reason of their deep, serious expression. Very intelligent and
ugly. She will be one of the riddles; she will suffer, she will
seek and find nothing, will always be seeking what is least
attainable.
The sixth, Peter, is a giant, a huge, delightful baby in a
mob-cap, turns out his elbows, strives eagerly after something.
My wife falls into an ecstasy of agitation and emotion when she
holds him in her arms; but I am completely at a loss to
understand. I know that he has a great store of physical energy,
but whether there is any purpose for which the store is wanted I
do not know. That is why I do not care for children under two or
three; I don't understand.
This letter was written in 1872, when I was six years old.
My recollections date from about that time. I can remember a few
things before.
FAMILY LIFE IN THE COUNTRY
FROM my earliest childhood until the family moved into Moscow--
that was in 1881--all my life was spent, almost without a
break, at Yasnaya Polyana.
This is how we live.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25