The moon disappears. There are no stars. Everywhere is pitched dark, but there is light in one house.
It is a huge and beautiful house. There is light in its hall. Music, soft and beautiful music, is playing inside. Looking through the window one can see a lovely picture—a mother and her two daughters. They are singing and dancing. Gently the mother takes her daughters into her bosom after the dancing.
Their father is away, away in the faraway land, fighting a war that is not his. He is conscripted by the government. His family misses him. The evening is the hardest time to pass by. So every evening the mother spends time with her daughters, trying not to worry, distract their minds from whatever atrocity which may happen to their loved one out there, out there in the unknown. They may receive news, bad news from afar.
People call the soldiers who die in the war, war heroes; but the mother does not want a war hero, she only wants a husband and a father to her children. Any time bad news can come and there will be no beautiful picture.