Manuela was a longed-for child, a child beloved in advance. Manuela ought to be born. Manuela ought to be a girl. Before she was born, a house was ready. A father who was already becoming impatient. A mother—deeply familiar with this child—even before she held her in her arms. Two brothers were certain comrades. A little patronising, but proud of her—now that she was really here.
Manuela was a longed-for child, a child beloved in advance. Manuela ought to be born. Manuela ought to be a girl. Before she was born, a house was ready. A father who was already becoming impatient. A mother—deeply familiar with this child—even before she held her in her arms. Two brothers were certain comrades. A little patronising, but proud of her—now that she was really here.
Manuela was a longed-for child, a child beloved in advance. Manuela ought to be born. Manuela ought to be a girl. Before she was born, a house was ready. A father who was already becoming impatient. A mother—deeply familiar with this child—even before she held her in her arms. Two brothers were certain comrades. A little patronising, but proud of her—now that she was really here.
