Ilse (age 14) and I were in London and she wanted to go on a bus tour. It was not something I ever would have done because I hated being visibly marked as a tourist. (I’m less self-conscious now than I was then.) She was grumpy about everything, as only a fourteen year old can be. Finally, I agreed to the bus tour. It was a grey day but as we emerged onto the top deck the sun came out and Ilse’s face lit up: “It’s so beautiful!” she exclaimed, over and over, as we drove past the sites of London. Later, she drew this picture of us on the bus tour.