Dear Aunt Liese,

I really do not like writing letters. Our Papa is so sick he can no longer get up. If our dear Papa should die, what will become of us? How sad that would be. He just cannot sleep during the night. Tina and I go to school and it is so far to walk. For those that pay, the school provides 1 meal a day -- 100 grams of bread. For supper we have porridge and mushrooms and tea, without bread or sugar. Today, in the store, they actually had flour and sugar for sale. Our Tina went to the Soviet very early this morning and earned 1 litre milk. Now maybe we can cook rice soup, and that tastes so very good. Write me a letter too. Greetings and a kiss from your dear niece,

Lena Regehr