Some time ago, in a big city in a distant country where winter would sometimes last three years, there lived a woman. She had a child. A son. And because she loved him very much she promised herself that he should be spared the terrible things that happen in life, and with him in her arms she left her house and the city and in a place where there were no roads and no bridges she built him a house and in it she cared for him and was happy. But one moonless night she died.