My mother, Dorothy Pettijohn Johnson, grew up on a farm in the small town of Melba, Idaho. After graduating from Brigham Young University, she lived in Chicago, Ill. and worked there until she found a job with the U.S. Foreign Services. She then embarked on the adventure of her lifetime and these are the letters she wrote to her family and friends about those days in New Delhi, India and the surrounding areas over a two-year span. Her stories begin at the tail end of 1951, not long after the era of Ghandi. Her letters are sweetly told, greatly detailed and descriptive of historical landmarks and places to visit. They tell of romance and dancing with Maharajas and offer the eye of a smart yet naive young woman and her experiences of India.