It had been snowing in Moscow since midday. A long line of bundled customers waited at the Stoleshniki Bakery, near the Red Square. Tolya felt melted snow, seeping through the holes in his shoes. He looked at the faces in queue; expressionless and gray like Russian skies. That morning, briefly enrolled among the black-market street venders, Tolya's reluctantly sold his late father's watch for six rubles.

Tolya smelled the bread, the last batch of the day. Through the snow, he saw a young woman crossing the frosted square in a bright red coat. St. Basil's Cathedral in the background, he strained to see her face without losing his place in line. St. Basil's Cathedral, its irresistible profusion of colors, its spires, cupolas, and domes dusted by the powdery snow, gave Tolya a feeling of hope. His face lit up when he saw his sister, Katya.

"Tolya, I have great gifts for us." Katya pushed through the crowd, carrying a heavy-looking plastic shopping bag and a small basket on her arm. An eldery babushka, in a rat-colored fur coat, spit angry words at Katya for cutting into the queue.

Katya stood back quietly until everyone's eyes turned away. She reached into her basket, pulling out a tiny jar of jam. "Esteemed lady," said Katya as she cradled the jar into the woman's hands, "I must speak with my brother for only a moment." Katya's eyes were bright, snowflakes falling in slow motion upon her dark hair and eyelashes. The babushka shook her head in thanks and turned away without another word.

"Katya, I didn't recognize you," said Tolya. "Where did you get this coat; it looks brand new." 

"You know how things work. I have a connection," she smiled. 

"Katya, this idea of doing favors for people to get things--that's why we wait in these lines. It's the reason our money can buy nothing."

"Tolya, there's nothing wrong with doing something nice to get things." Katya handed him the shopping bag. "Tell Mama I'll be home later." 

Tolya grabbed her arm hard. She pulled away, walking fast toward a man, waiting near Lenin's frozen statue. Tolya thought of running after her, but it had been a week since his family had bread.

Tolya bought three loaves of warm bread, placing it carefully in the shopping bag, before making his way to their crumbling apartment.

Mama was delighted--fresh bread and Katya's wonderful surprises--a small box of chocolates, a large slab of ham, a brick of cheese, and a bag of big, shiny apples.

"Krasnaya," said Tolya, cutting an apple into red squares, "red, beautiful, deliciously lost." He tossed the apple core on the table, tears in his eyes.