“It was simply that. When still an infant in its baby carriage, people peered in fondly and came away stunned. The parents grew permanently helpless expressions that silently told these passers-by they couldn’t understand it either: yes, the child was theirs, but its enormous ethereal beauty was as incomprehensible and impossible to them as to the awed observers. The Tibetans live with the Himalayas in their backyard, but they can take no credit—they’re just lucky for the view. “The father searc...hed toy stores for things worthy of the child’s attention: dolls that spoke four languages and answered difficult questions, balls that came when you called their name, crayons that lasted forty years. He bought it a cat named Fib that lied so well and entertainingly that none of them ever knew when it was telling the truth, but they didn’t care. “They lived in a small apartment by a railroad station in the country. Both parents worked at the station. The father sold magazines and cigarettes at the Tabak, the mother, in her waitress uniform, bustled from table to table serving railroad workers tureens of tea, big and hot enough to steam open every envelope in the world.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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