#0029: Little Sister Tai-Mi, by Berit Braeme

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Little Sister Tai Mi
by Berit Braeme

p.17-18 Korea is the name of the country where Tai-Mi lives, but the people there call it "the country where it is silent in the morning," so we will call it that too.
     It is a lovely country. It has high mountains and green valleys, there is snow there in the winter, and it has sea all around it.
     The people who live there have slanting eyes and smooth black hair. They are very like the Chinese. The food they eat is quite different from the food we eat. Instead of bread they eat rice, and the th ing they like best for dinner is vegetables cut up into tiny pieces with sugar, salt, mustard, and vinegar. They call that food "kimtshikk."
     Their houses are also different from ours--at any rate, the houses out in the country and in the tiny country villages. The whole family--father, mother, children, grandfather and grandmother, uncles and aunts--live together in square houses with straw roofs and a little yard in the middle. They have a large kitchen, which they all share, and then they each have their own rooms along the four sides of the house.
     Inside the rooms there is almost no furniture, only some low tables, for they sit on the floor when they eat, and therefore they all take off their shoes when they come in so that the floor will not get dirty. During the day all the children play in the yard or out in the fields, and at night they sleep on thick mats, which they roll out on the floor.
     Now you can perhaps imagine the sort of home Tai-Mi had and what she looked like. She was small and neat, with slanting eyes and black, silky smooth hair. Her skin was soft as velvet. Her name suited her very well, for Mi means "the good and the pretty," and good and pretty she certainly was. As a matter of fact, Tai-Mi had three names. She was called Tai-Mi Ja. Tai was her surname, Mi her Christian name, and Ja the name of the tribe to which she belonged, for that is the custom in an Oriental country. But we will just call her Tai-Mi, which easier to say and remember.

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#0030: A Great and Terrible Beauty, by Libba Bray

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A Great and Terrible Beauty
by Libba Bray

p.10 God save me from a woman's tears, for I've no strength against them.

p.11 I could ask them for directions back to the marketplace, though my Hindi isn't nearly as good as Father's and for all I know Where is the marketplace may come out as I covet your neighbor's fine cow.

p.42 She attempts one of those confessional smiles, the sort usually seen in reverent portraits of Florence Nightingale. In my experience, such smiles mean that the real message--the one hidden by manners and good posture--will need to be translated.
      "I think you shall be very happy here, Miss Doyle."
     Translation: That is an order.
     "Spence has turned out many wonderful young women who've gone on to make very good marriages.
     We don't expect much more from you. Please don't embarras us.
     "Why, you may even be sitting here in my position someday."
     If you turn out to be completely unmarriageable, and you don't end up in an Austrian convent making lace nightgowns.

p.52-53 We scurry across the threshold of the quiet, cavernous chapel and take our seats, our footsteps echoing off the marble floors. Arched wood-beamed ceilings soar a good fifteen feet above us. Candelabras line the sides of the church, casting long shadows over the wooden pews. Stained-glass windows line the walls, colorful advertisements for God, pastoral scenes of angels doing a ngelic sorts of things--visiting villagers, telling them good news, cradling babies. There is the odd panel with a severed gorgon's head, an angel in armor standing next to it, brandishing a sword dripping blood. Can't say that I've heard that particular Bible story--or want to, really. It's a bit gruesome so I turn my attention to the altar where a vicar stands, tall and thin as a scarecrow.

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