Thank you for the work, the chocolate—we have yet to see it. The weather was marvelous, springlike—they even got suntanned. Now it is 20 [°C; 68°F], 17 in the sun. Twice I sat on the balcony, otherwise in the yard (when there is a slight frost), for the sun is very warm. My health was fine the whole time, but it is now a week since my heart has been bothering me again, and it has ached for a few days. It really hurts me…. God, how the motherland suffers. You know I love it far more strongly and tenderly than you do…. The poor motherland. They have tormented it from the inside, and the Germans have crippled it from the outside—they gave away a huge piece, as during the time of Al. Mikh. [Tsar Aleksei Mikhailovich]—and without a fight during the time of the rev. [revolution] that they prepared from abroad. Yes, they will bring order—but what could be more insulting and humiliating than being obligated to an enemy—God save us! Only they shouldn't dare to speak to Papa and Mama.

That is, with Nicholas and herself, who would oppose such a peace with Germany.

We hope to fast next week if they allow us to attend ch. [church]—we haven't been since 6 January [the Festival of the Lord's Baptism]. Maybe now it will work out, the ch. draws [me] so strongly. I'll be precise just as you say, [illegible] only praying to the Lord Jesus Christ to pardon my sins…. Soon it will be a year since we parted from you, but what is time? Nothing—life is vanity, eternity is everything. We ready ourselves in our thoughts for admission to the Kingdom of Heaven. Then there is nothing terrible—everything can be taken away from a person, but no one can take away the soul. The Devil trips a person up at every step; he is sly, but he also is fulfilling his duty. Still, we must fight hard against him. He knows our weaknesses better than we do and uses this. But our business is to be on guard, to do battle, not to sleep. All of life is a battle; otherwise there would be no achievements or rewards. You see, all tests sent down by Him, calamities—everything is for the best. One sees His hand everywhere. People do bad to you, and without a murmur you accept it. And He will send down a guardian angel, His comforter. We are never alone—He is omnipresent—all-knowing—Love itself. How can one not believe in Him? The sun shines brightly, although the world sins and we sin; darkness and evil reign, but the sun of truth will shine again. Just open your eyes and keep the doors to the soul unlocked so that the rays of that sun can be accepted within yourself. You see, we love Him, my Child, and we know that “that's the way it should be.” Just bear it a little longer, darling, and these sufferings will pass and we will forget the tortures. Later we will be grateful for everything—it is a great school. Lord help those who do not hold the love of God in their hardened hearts, who see only the bad and do not try to understand that all this will pass, that it cannot be otherwise: the Saviour came and showed us the example. He who follows along His path of love and suffering understands all the greatness of the Kingdom of Heaven. I cannot write, am not able in words to say what fills my heart, but you, my little martyr, understand all this better than I—you are already further and higher on that staircase than I. But all His children are now apathetic. One lives as though here but not here—one sees much with different eyes—and sometimes it is difficult being with people, even though they are religious—but something is missing. It isn't that we are better; the opposite is true—we should be more tolerant of them. It isn't their fault that they did not have such a mentor. Nevertheless, I become irritated—this is my big sin, an incredible stupidity…. Yesterday, on 1 M. [March],

Liturgy in memory of the assassination of Alexander II on 1 March 1881.

we had a requiem and I fervently prayed in my thoughts for your father, too. The 2d was the day of my father's death 26 y. [years] ago, and the day that the sweet, wounded one, Komenshev [?] lay in the big pal. [palace]; he took a little piece of me with him, the bright hero—completely unknown, but a radiant soul beckoned my soul to bring a ray of light…. I cannot but bless another soul—he wanted to be warmed so. There are those close by from whom one doesn't draw warmth; I am not drawn to them and that is bad. I give to them in words—it is a matter of obligation—but not from within. The fire doesn't burn inside when meeting; I feel cold with them—and again this isn't kind on my part. Warm kisses.