1,550 calories. That level has so far been maintained, but keeping it up requires the importing of large quantities; and in the other regions the position appears worse. Perhaps the most wretched regions are Budapest and the environs of Wiener Neustadt, Austria and certain parts of Poland, Yugoslavia, Germany, and western Russia — where the great destruction has left millions of people without shelter — together with Slovakia and the isolated regions of Greece.
Such is the sum of the situation; what, then, are we doing to meet it?... It is regrettable that the swift collapse of the food situation was not foreseen in its true light, at an early date, by either peoples or governments. Now that the position has become clear, America has begun to save wheat by increasing the quantity of flour extracted from it and forbidding its use in the production of alcohol, and she hopes to save about 1,200 thousand tons. President Truman has even spoken of rationing the quantities of food.
But this is not easy, because America lifted all restrictions on foods except sugar a few months ago, multiplied her production of butter to a great degree, and estimated the quantities of meat available as guaranteeing every individual in the world 40 pounds a year over and above prewar consumption. Canada has now reduced the quantities of butter.
Australia has promised to forbid the use of wheat as feed for animals, and has begun to consume the reserve she usually keeps against the dangers of drought.
Asma leans at the window, her face between two cold bars, thinking as she looks out at the garden. The day is nearly over. The sky is gray in color and the room is dark. Why does one feel one's heart tighten at the end of the day, and why does everything look sad? The only light that reaches her comes from the window of the neighbors' house, through the leaves of the trees, faint and dancing. Asma tries to forget her thoughts and busy herself with some task, but she cannot stop thinking about her cousin Jacqueline and measuring herself against her.
Jacqueline left her only a short while ago, after a brief, hurried visit. Jacqueline was coming back from a tea dance and going on to a dancing party as well. She recounted to her what had happened last night at the soirée, and told her of the great attention she had won and of the admiration earned by her beautiful dress, which had cost her three hundred lira.
Asma and her cousin are the same age, but Jacqueline is beautiful in the extreme, and her parents, as the saying goes, are of the "modern" sort: they allow her to go out whenever she wishes, to dance and amuse herself as she pleases. As for Asma, she must be content to dream of all that.
How circumstances change: only two years ago Jacqueline and Asma were together in the same class, and Asma far outshone her cousin. Jacqueline's mother was always telling her daughter:
- Look at Asma — she is always among the leading girls of the class, and you are always either
last or next to last; you think of nothing but your finery and your adornment.
They used to congratulate Asma on her excellent results, and she would secretly write Jacqueline's assignments whenever the latter was invited to a dance she did not want to miss.
Asma's father never allows her to dance, and for that matter she herself feels no great inclination toward dancing. She preferred reading above everything else. But how is one to mix with people if one does not dance, does not go to soirées, does not follow the world into its amusements? Her mother's friends would say of her: "Asma is a well-behaved girl and very sensible. Where is her like to be found in these days of ours?" But they would soon forget her, to talk of other things more delicious and more entertaining, and would pay her attention only rarely — while Jacqueline attracted great notice wherever she went. If the two were found together in someone's house, everyone gathered around Jacqueline: she is merry, all movement; she knows how to relate to them, in an amusing, comical way, every little adventure of her restless life. Asma speaks little — only when they ask her a question. And what should she say, she who, beside these people, lives in solitude? Yes, her circumstances have changed greatly since school days. Now she feels her heart brimming over and the tears rising to her eyes. Is it envy? No — what nonsense is this? But a tear slides down her cheek, and she wipes it away quickly with