The sidewalk along the river had been always a piece of path to come and go, nothing else. However, one day something changed the scenery. She was there, resting patiently, an old lady with a scarf wrapping up her gray hair. Her hands were on her lap. They seemed hurt with scars of difficult times. The sun over her very white skin emphasized the wrinkles. Her blue and crystal clear eyes seemed to be travelling a thousand miles away. She was not alone. There was a cane beside her. That very old woman intrigued me. She gave me a very generous smile and I decided to approach. I sit beside her on the bench after we have introduced to each other. We began a conversation. She had a very strong Russian accent. She had been living her for almost twenty years. She said that she liked living in this country because people were always together. However, I saw through her eyes a sort of sadness when she talked about missing her country. She said that Russia was a very good place to live before the World War II. After that, everything got difficult. The situation was death, famine, downfall, and lack of perspective. She was filled with nostalgia. Suddenly, she stopped talking. Her eyes were fears and tears again. Everything became a long time of silence and we stayed there to stare the landscape. When the sun grew weak I had to go. I did not see that woman again, but she left such a good impression of hers in me. I did not know her and I did know her enough ... so strange feeling. She shared some time with me talking about very important memories and I would like to celebrate them always. After all, they were treasures of a candid heart and soul, and precious moments of a lifetime.