Просто этот отрывок вызывает слёзы у меня на глазах, просто когда я вспоминаю его. Пусть он будет здесь.

"She heard a throat clear. 'Excuse me&' The voice was timid. ' Do you think this looks all right?'

Lena looked up. She had lost track of the lady, but now here she was, standing in the middle of the carpet. Her feet were bare and flat. She wore a gray washed-silk dress that sagged and swayed over her small, bony frame. The woman's face was shadowed, and her skin looked as thin as cellophane. Only the blue veins in her neck and hands seemed vivid. But the color of the dress matched almost identically the shade of her large, lovely eyes. It didn't look good, but it probably looked better than anything else in the shop would have.

Lena stopped looking at the lady's dress and looked at her face. Until now, Lena hadn't been able to put her finger on the particular look of so many women who shopped here. Truthully, she hadn't tried very hard to put her finger on it. But now she saw it so clearly. It was need. It was hope. It was a plea for some small signal that they were worthwhile.

This woman's need was raw. Suddenly Lena knew who she was. She was Mrs. Graffman. She was Bailey's mother. Mrs. Graffman didn't know Lena, but Lena knew about her. She had lost her daughter, her only child. She didn't have anyone to be a mother to anymore. Lena knew nothing about loss compared to her.

Lena looked at Mrs. Graffman's face. She saw what it needed and she didn't look away. Lena rose to her feet. ' That dress… I think it makes you look… beautiful.' The words came out as light as the air, truer than any lie Lena had ever told. "

—The Second Summer of the Sisterhood

И да простят меня те, кому я засрала ленту таким большим куском непонятного, незнакомого и, потому, неинтересного текста.