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Dear Friends,

As of January 1, 2001, we've been designated as "the national disaster area". Every day, the national news tell us about the situation in our city, -42ºC, -48ºC at night. In the neighboring areas, the temperatures kept falling, -50ºC, -57ºC, -60ºC. It¹s never happened before to the cities, and nobody really knows what to expect, if the communication lines will hold, if the houses will keep. The frost outside is unimaginable. The cold inside is indescribable. Fortunately it¹s the schools winter break, kids can stay home. They sleep for about twelve hours a day, crawl out of beds ravenous, bundle up and occupy themselves somehow. Working is very hard, the air pressure is very high, the cold seeps into the bones, heads refuse to function. Siberians manage to joke in any situation. Before you go out, bundle up. Put on everything you can, take a deep breath, rush outside, and be ready for a shock. You'll feel frozen regardless. If you hear a tinkle behind you, check that your butt is still in place. Oh, since breathing at such low temperatures is a problem, you¹d better stop breathing until you¹re inside again. I had to go out one day for a teachers meeting. It was just above -40ºC. We had a meeting, sort of, then I delivered a lecture for the teachers about Listening Comprehension, as planned. Actually, it was to be done for a small group. But as everybody was at school already, they all stayed for my lecture. Ninety minutes of talking, singing and dancing in front of a large audience had warmed me up a bit, so I managed to run home okay, intending not to go out again that day. Then I got a little notice out of my mail box. In Russia, things are not delivered to your home, you have to leg it to the post-office - and back. I took a very deep breath, ran for ten minutes,

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stumbled in and stood there panting. That's normal in Siberia, in winter anyway, and in these days of extreme cold, people are very understanding. A clerk came up to me, I mumbled, "in my coat pocket," she took out the slip of paper, found a small parcel, put it into my bag. I had to sign for it, that was a problem, since my fingers wouldn't bend, but I finally managed a scrawl. And ran back home. When you come in from the cold, people would unbundle you first, no questions asked. My children took off my mittens, fur coat and cap, boots, lots of other stuff. They poured some hot liquid into my throat, then opened the parcel. And yelled. It was the new LEWIN, students writing anthology, sent to us from Australia. They found Evgenia's story and Irina¹s drawing in it, found Anna's Monologue and immediately called her. She nearly cried into the receiver because she couldn't come to us at once, it was too cold. We'll meet at school later and I'll give her a copy of the book. We don't know yet if school will start as usual, on January 11, or whether the vacation will be extended due to the frosts. So here we are, staying home, reading this wonderful book. It¹s amazing to see the result of so much work, it's so beautiful, we¹re very happy that our works were included, and we are so glad to see many familiar names. The stories and the poems are all wonderful and inspiring. They are also heart-warming. The artwork is beautiful. All the student editors have done a great job. And we cannot find enough words to express our thanks to the coordinators. In spite of the horrible cold outside, we feel warm in our souls.

Nina M. Koptyug, Teacher, School #130, Novosibirsk, Russia