Chapter 4: Still

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Smoke, everywhere. Dust, rubble, and thick, dark smoke surrounded them. Bombs had rained all night yet they had all managed to make it through to the sunrise. Sara stepped out from underneath the rubble of what used to be a small house. The roof had caved in but they had been safe in the cellar.


Sara had arrived in Warsaw not long before the invasion. The temptation to get off at Berlin and look for Kristian had been overwhelming, but she had known that if her search was unsuccessful, her life would be at risk. Even if it was successful, she doubted he still cared about her. He's probably moved on by now, married to a deserving German girl, she thought.


After two lonely nights of sleeping on the streets of Warsaw like a stray dog, a kind family invited her into their home for dinner. Edel and Dovid Althaus and their three children Channah, Ethan, and Livna, were a family of Ashkenazi Jews who had fled their home in Dresden seeking refuge in Warsaw when the Führer first took power. Dovid had known that it would simply be a matter of time before the government took everything from them.


At first, Sara was a bit distant and cold towards them. In a strange way she sometimes resented Jews for her suffering, almost blamed them. But she was polite and grateful to the Althaus family, and after a heart-warming meal she could not refuse Edel's offer of a bath and a place to sleep on the sofa.


That night, Sara realized that she couldn't resent or even dislike Jews, that it was her home country's government that deserved her hatred, that she was now one of them, a Jew, not only in the eyes of the Nazi government, but also in the world. She was all alone, the only place she belonged in and the only people she could count in were fellow Jews. She had never been a person of religion, and she barely knew a thing about Jewish culture.

Sara also realized she had nowhere to go in the morning. The next day, she asked Edel and Dovid if she could stay and in return for their hospitality she'd do any chores and housework they needed.


They agreed to let her stay, since their eldest daughter, Channah, was asthmatic and could not help out much due to her condition. Channah was 16 years old, while Ethan was 11 and Livna 8. They often mixed German with Polish when they spoke. They had pale skin and dark brown, wavy hair.

Dovid and Edel looked like they were in their 40s, Sara never asked. He was a dentist. Back in Dresden he'd had his own clinic, but in Warsaw he treated fellow Jews in the back of a mediocre clinic owned by a Polish doctor. Edel made decent money from fixing and altering clothes. She had asked if Sara knew how to sew but she admitted she had never learned.


"That's okay, darling girl, you'll still be a great help to us. You can help me clean and cook, and that way I'll have more time for my sewing machine," Edel said.

"Thank you, you have been so kind, so generous to me. I don't deserve your hospitality," Sara thanked the couple.

"Nonsense, you are one of us now. We're in this struggle together, and the only way we can make it through is by sticking together," Dovid patted her shoulder.


It was truly ironic. A year ago, Sara had been teaching fourth grade students about the corrupt and disgusting nature of the Jewish people. She had been sure of her despise towards them, although she had never known a Jew. How ironic to find out right before her wedding that she was part Jewish. How ironic that she now found refuge in the home of a Jewish family. How ironic that they were so welcoming and sweet to her. She felt as though all the horrible things she had ever said about Jews had been a direct insult to the Althauses.

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