I returned to the idea of composing my own opera. Or, more accurately, the idea had never left me but circumstances had intervened. Where did the subject come from? Obviously, it was thought up in the same way as the themes for our childhood plays.
When I went to my mother with my manuscript in early summer 1900 and said to her: -"Mama, you said that I couldn't write an opera but I've written one!", she wondered when I had managed to do it.
Then doubts set in: over-enthusiasm might be followed by disappointment. But we went to the piano and all went well, it was even entertaining.
Serge Prokofiev. St Petersburg, 1901.