I just finished listening to “White Nights, A Sentimental Story from the Diary of a Dreamer”, by Fyodore Dostoyevsky on Librivox. Ulf Bjorklund is my favorite reader so far, by the way. The main character, who I think goes unnamed, sort of wanders lonely as a cloud until he meets Nastenka, a sheltered girl who is hopeful of a date made a year ago with someone else. Until he meets her, he’s lived a sort of fantasy life with an imaginary married woman who prefers him to her old husband. “Old” is the enemy. Nastenka is young and inexperienced, and therefore ideal. At the end when she chooses her date over him, all of the sudden he feels that his housekeeper and his lodgings and even himself are now much older, dryer, and therefore lifeless. How sad. Hopefully “old” isn’t all that bad, but Christ did come to make all things new. He died before he grew old, and I hear we’ll be 33ish in heaven. And if when people grow old, they mature in Christ, then perhaps they become younger in a manner of speaking.