Half consciously, she opened the umbrella. From time to time, she rubbed the head of her elder son, partly to sweep the raindrops from his hair. Only the sneeze of her little son dragged her back to reality, with its fears and depression. The fear was always there - she would lose what she had and was afraid to let her children suff er with her. The depression came from the depth of the life she was living and the depth of her realization of being incapable.