Kabul, Afghanistan, Jan. 1, 1978 10 years old

We went to the mountains. We went sledding. We had a race and little brother and I won. We had chicken. There was a kind dog there and we gave him all the left over chicken bones.

Jan. 2, 1978
We put my brothers and my bed together into a bunk bed. And our parrot got something he is supposed to put under his pole. At six thirty in the evening we heard military planes fly over our house. There were lots of planes and they flew for almost an hour and a half.

Jan. 3, 1978
Wahead almost died of carbon smoke. He had been burning wood in his stove and fainted. He had all the windows closed. I made a red octopus out of yarn and named it Strawberry. We went to the Nilssons. Rebecca and Beatrice and I we played school. Little Hannah was with us too.

Jan. 12, 1978
I gave my dad a bear book I made and a stone house for his birthday. He turned 37 years old. We ate croissants from the French bakery.

THOUGHTS FROM THE PRESENT:
I was ten years when I started my first journal. I am writing as a ten year old would. Short sentences, short thoughts. Little did I know that I was four months away from living through the coup that would take over Afghanistan, lead us into hiding, and one year away from the Soviet Union invading Afghanistan and occupying the nation for ten years. Next weekend I will continue to reread and tell you about what happens in my life, in 1978. Stay tuned for more exciting events to come.