As an expatriate lurking in the snowy streets of Moscow and sporting ridiculous fur hats, my friend recently met an older Russian man who was selling his book of poems on the sidewalk. She apologized to the poet for not being able to buy his book, saying that she did not understand enough Russian. But he gave her some sage advice: “If you just keep on reading and reading you will someday understand!” She ended up buying the book.

The young American girl and the old school Russian poet hit it off, and soon they were exchanging email addresses. He exclaimed to her, “I hope you find a great man to love you very much!” She said, “I hope so too.” He intuited that she played piano as a child and urged her to take up the instrument again because it would lead her to a great man who would love her. The elderly poet also told her that he loves his wife very much. A real prince in the Russian night, spreading love to warm the wayward American girl in the frigid Moscow air.

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