Finally Christmas eve arrived. Mother presented everyone with one of the gifts we had been working on for months. The villagers too were thoughtful. They sent us two Christmas trees, one of which we sent to our friends across the street, with whom we shared some delicacies that were sent us by the Ivanovsky nunnery and by the head people of the local museum. In the evening, vespers were held in the big hall and we were grateful that there was no interference. We looked forward to the Christmas morning services at the church. Somehow I felt a sadness as we walked along the path packed with snow. It was cold and dreary and at eight in the morning still dark. The sky overhead was heavy. It gave me simultaneously a feeling of loneliness and apprehension. It was so quiet that only the crackling of the frozen snow under our feet broke the stillness. We did not speak to each other; each one was occupied with his own thoughts. It is quietness like this that awakens one’s heart to fond memories of the past. We crossed the small garden and with my mind’s eye I could see the museum, the little park, and in it the proud obelisk dedicated to Yermak, the conqueror of Siberia. A short walk, but my thoughts covered thousands of miles behind the frozen plains of Siberia. I could see our Grandmother, our aunts and their children, and our friends, and I wondered if they had forgotten us. Above all I thought of our old homes, where I had spent sixteen happy years of my life. All seemed so cold and so far away. My thoughts came back to Tobolsk. Only recently we had discussed with our friends here the historical background of this town. It frightened me. I thought of the chapel adjoining the Metropolitan’s residence where the Bell of Uglich was formerly hung. This bell summoned the people of Uglich when Prince Dimitri, son of Ivan the Terrible, was murdered in 1591. By an order presumably given by Boris Godunov, this bell was transferred to Tobolsk, where it was damaged by fire and recast. We too were transferred to Tobolsk, by Kerensky. Father realized what the prison life had done to his family. We once overheard Father saying to Prince Dolgorukov, in the presence of Colonel Kobylinsky, that his heart was aching for his little family whose life which had just begun was about to come to an end. He continued, “During my whole life I tried to serve my country faithfully, and if I have done wrong I am willing to suffer for it. I am not sorry for myself or my wife, but for the children. It is a crime to punish these innocent youngsters. They are so pure and so good. They are the children of Russia.”