Then I see photos of my cousins as children. A and T on a sleigh ready to slide down the snowy hill, all tucked in with layers of warm clothes. And then I see a photo of myself as a child. I have the same neutral and pensive look that I have on so many photos from that time. All photos are taken in twilight, and I remember the wetness of the snow. Then I see one picture of T as perhaps a 12 year old. And then myself, on a bike, the picture is moving, and I am biking along the countryside road. I am skinny and taller than I remember, always wearing my favorite jeans and a worn jacket. I hold a bottle of milk and am drinking it as I bike without holding my hands on the handlebar. Now I approach A's house near the downhill, still not holding the handlebars. Then something strange happens in the moving picture; for a moment the twilight scenery of green Nordic landscape trades places with a Californian city landscape at night, and I am biking downhill with the spectacular view of the Valley! Then it transfers back to the original landscape.

It is time for me to step up. I am going to be blessed for some reason. I have been chosen. J, a person I knew to be of faith comes up to me and tells me that someone else with more experience and wisdom is going to read the blessing. I step to the side of the altar, and remove my long jacket, and then move toward the center of the altar to wait. The priest approaches and moves his hand to make a cross. I bend down, and decide to kneel down. Noone has told me what to do so I am improvising. I really am not sure why I am here. He asks me for my hands and as I hold them out he takes out a small flagon with a dropper and drops holy oil on my wrists and makes patterns with the oil. Then he tells me to take the cotton ball he holds out, because as he puts it; 'This may cause quite a lot of bleeding unless you apply pressure on it directly afterward.' I realize he is going to sting me on my right wrist with the dropper, about 3 inches from the hand directly into a vein, and that it will probably bleed a lot if I don't follow his orders. Why? What is this for? The sting is quick and I press the cotton ball onto the wound and raise my arm up in the air so I don't bleed too much. I see a small spot of blod beginning to bleed through the cotton - but then it stops. I am relieved that it isn't worse. Silent people have been watching. I still don't understand my purpose here.