Some scribblings on living with Hannah Guerra:
I always thought that Hannah was the most beautiful of us. Her face was rosy and radient, full of the natural honesty of leaves and flowers. She wore openness on that face and unmatching socks on her feet tucked into shoes with the heels worn into the soles. She burped loudly and without apology and ate peanut butter out of the jar with ferver. Hannah broke all the rules I created for myself of womanly propriety, and she did it with such glad grace that it built up her womanhood rather than diminishing it. It made her something of a wonder to me.
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