First, a couple of translations for you.

"gullet mitt" or simply "gullet' - "golden one", as a term of endearment

"vesla" - "darling" or "Sweetie", again a term of endearment

"vennen" - "friend"

"mamma" - "mama"

January, 1974. Norway

Harsh red moonlight washes through the ruined forest. Around me is a scarred and burnt mesh of blacks, ashes and browns. Tall columns of brown smoke shift silently to and fro marking where trees once stood. I make my way over the burnt forest floor, searching. I need to find my way home. My knee grinds roughly into….

The caress of two fingers causes me to open my eyes. They are moving lightly through my hair. The smoke-filled forest is put on pause. A long sleeved arm extends from somewhere, bringing a hand and fingers over to my waking head.

Clean white sheets surround me and I feel a pillow supporting my head. Such comforts feel nice, but I am not used to them.

A voice, a woman's voice, is talking quietly. The words are queer. I realize she is reading. Her fingers drift out of my hair and trace a series of small circles on my cheek. Her voice continues reading aloud, unbroken. It is my secret that I am awake; she doesn't know.

I try to speak but cannot. My mouth forms what I want to say but there is no breath. "Mamma" I manage in slow motion but without any voice to it. My lips, cheek and jaw silently mouth it.

The two fingers stop their aimless twirl on my cheek. They have felt the movement. The reading stops and I sense her move towards me.

"Mamma," I try again – It is a long drawn out mouthing of what I want so desperately to get out. I have found you. Relief sweeps over me.

I slide back into the vision of charred branches and stumps. I know mamma is here. I renew my stumbling over burnt logs. The urge to find my home is confusing. I don't need to do that anymore. I have found mamma. Yet all I can see are brown smoky columns, ghosts of what used to be, drifting in the moonlight.

Her voice resumes reading and I can hear her as I look about the forest. I will find my mamma. She is here.

I open my eyes. There is no dream in my head this time, and I am ready to wake up. I am on my side, just as I like to sleep. My knees are pulled up and my hands are lying between them. A simple but beautiful blanket is pulled up just short of my chin.

The arm and hand return but are wearing a different sleeve. And the fingers are holding a cool, moist washcloth. I wrinkle my nose away from it even though the moisture feels good.

"Ohhh, I see you! Good morning vesla!" says mamma.

Again I want to speak but have no voice. I try to draw air into my lungs but nothing moves. When I first wake up I am so little.

My eyes find hers. I cannot focus but I can make out her face and I lock on to her eyes.

Finally I can breathe in. I hold it and then push it slowly back out and try one more time. Still it is not much more than a whisper: "mamma!"

"Gullet, it's Aldine," mamma replies with a smile. "But you can call me mamma if you want."

I think about that for a while. It doesn't make sense at first. But then slowly it does.

"I see you in there, min vesla. Just lie there and don't try to move. You have been asleep for a long while!"

I try to draw in more air. My throat and trachea wheeze.

"Oh my goodness!" she exclaims and pulls back the washcloth. "We have to get you some water right away!"

Arms return. One lifts my head. Another brings me a cup of water. I sip at the water. It's just what I need – for now. My head is returned to the pillow and the arms retreat.

"Sweetie, do you know where I found you? I missed you in November but thought to go look for you again in early December."

I start to remember.

"And there you were! Good heavens, darling. You, min vennen, were in a knot under a pile of snow, leaves and branches in the back corner of the family plot. Just inside the iron fencing. Honestly, you about scared the life out of me."

I lie there quietly taking all this in. I can now focus on Aldine's face and it is as gentle and caring as ever. Could it be that perhaps it is even more so?

"I thought the worst. But you were alive - and breathing! I feared hypothermia for a long time but with you I know enough …"

Do I tell her the truth? How can I?

I had come too late to the farm this fall, passed my normal time to meet up with Aldine. But this year I didn't care. I was tired and beyond caring. Settling onto Halvard's marker I sat for hours looking at the little farmyard below at the foot of the hill. What is the point of a life where I cannot be honest with anyone, not even myself? I asked. There was no answer. There could be no answer that was worth bearing. So I curled up with my miseries into the corner of the plot, fast up against the fencing. I decided to let the return of sunlight to this northern farm find me and burn me up. – That had been my final thought.

Her hand comes back and caresses my cheek.

I pull my hand up to my face. My fingers touch the top of hers. Hers are tender but coarse from years of farm work. But I see that mine are so clean - scrubbed clean! And I find myself looking at the cuff of a fresh nightgown. Oh! But.. but.. I look up again at her face. She understands.

"Yes, I redressed you. I could not have a little darling like you tucked in while covered with winter's worst."

And then with fear I push my hand back under the covers and down to my knees. The fingers of my two hands meet. Then slowly, lower lip trembling, I pull my hands back to my hips. With my fingertips I feel underwear, featuring a delicate elastic band around my waist - one that I know is not something I have ever owned. Truth strikes me like a hard blow. She knows. Panic floods through me. I am so small. How can she possibly know and yet love me? I am nothing …and she knows.

I go completely white. I see it in her expression. My face balls up and my dried lips curl into a sob. I hold it for a moment but then I can't. Losing control I breathe in much too hard. The sound of my dried throat is horrible. My fangs descend into place. I convulse in a fit of crying – but one that is completely without tears for I am too dry.

Aldine scoops me up, into her lap, and holds me tight. "Little one, have I not always told you how I love you? Do you think that could ever change?"

My spasms erupt with me being held tight and then me holding tight to her bosom. My anguished sobbing is the endless raspy barking of a sea lion. I am consumed with shame. That I can be nothing and not have her discard me is too much to accept. I am wracked with the emotion and still she holds me tight. In that moment I have only her and she is there for me.

I pull my knees up to my face and I bury my vile mouth between them. It is a long time before I get myself under control. Still she holds me and lets me calm down. I keep my face buried. One look and she would know another truth.

"Mamma," I try. It's not what I want to say. The hunger is coming. I actually had not intended to say anything yet. But wanting to show that I was getting myself under control and it having been the last thing I was able to utter, it is the first thing to come out.

Yet it, that spoken word, accidentally said, becomes what saves me. And her.

A silence follows. She holds me while I sit in her lap and sniffle. That last spoken word is everywhere in my mind and I suspect it resonates also in hers. This is my last tie to the present. I had settled into the corner of this family's burial plot thinking how appropriate the spot would be to end it all. And now in this kind woman's lap - Aldine's - I wonder if I can move away from that and continue.

"I have to go." I quietly rasp. "You have to take me to the forest."