When I think of Tom.I think of a night,
When the earth smelled of summer
And the sky was streaked with white,
The soft mist of England Was sleeping on a hill.
I remember this, And I always will...
There are new lovers now
On the same silent hill,
Looking on the same blue sea.
And I know Tom and I are a part of them all -- And they're all a part of Tom and me.
--Intro to "Hello Young Lovers" Rogers and Hammerstein's The King and I

The formal restraint of a prepared memory -- the story you tell everyone, the face you wear, the closing and unclosing of the hand and then the resolve to leave off there has become habit. There aren't any friends who knew me when...not where I work, so I am this new character. A ragged, but nevertheless, a type -- the mistress of bedeviled children, religious in her belief that somewhere in eternity, her joy remains intact.