1924
Hélène works by candlelight in her parents’ tailoring and dressmaking atelier, late into the night.
She grows up alone, in the midst of suits and dresses. Without a brother or sister.
On a wall of the atelier she makes shadows. Always the same ones. She joins her palms to form a bird that eats from her hand. The beak she outlines with her right index finger. The bird resembles a seagull. When it wants to fly off, the little girl links her thumbs and flaps her fanned-finger wings. But before letting it go, she entrusts it with a prayer—always the same one—which the seagull must carry up to heaven, God’s home.