Deep in the depths of her battered heart flickers a flame. It gives little light and even less warmth. But it is enough to keep her alive. She can only muster half rations of smiles and flickers of laughter. But it is enough to keep her hanging in. She writes by that light when she is all alone and her thoughts are her own. It gives her comfort and her little flame blazes. It warms her all over her lonely places.