You Are My Sunshine: A Novel Of The Holocaust (All My Love Detrick Book 2)

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You Are My Sunshine: A Novel Of The Holocaust (All My Love Detrick Book 2) Page 37

by Roberta Kagan


  “I never expected this…” Zofia turned away and looked out the window. “I don’t know…”

  “Please, Zofia. I beg you. I know you will love Katja. And I know you believe in your heart that what happened was no fault of hers. She is just a child only four years old. She will never remember any of this. I knowyou and I know that you would never blame or punish her for what you went through. Yes, Zofia, I know you too well.”

  “No, I would never do that. It is not her fault.”

  “Do you remember what I told you about her birth mother and the Lebensborn?”

  “I remember.”

  “Katja is a victim too. She was taken from her rightful family. She will probably never know her birth mother.”

  “Yes, I realize that.”

  “Here…” Christa with trembling fingers fished several papers out of her purse and handed them to Zofia “These are the documents of Katja’s birth. They are from the Lebensborn. Katja’s real mother’s name is Helga Haswell. I don’t know anything about her, but someday you might choose to tell Katja everything. I will leave that decision up to you. That is, of course, if you will agree to take her.”

  “I don’t know…” Zofia said, suddenly remembering the tender and loving child she’d once sung to sleep. “You’re sure this is what you want, Christa?”

  “I am sure. I am begging you, Zofia.”

  Zofia looked into Christa’s eyes. Then she nodded. “I will take her.”

  “May I bring her here tonight?”

  “No, I need the night to sort everything out in my mind. I will meet you in front of the courthouse in the morning. Try to talk to her tonight and explain what you are about to do to help ease the transition for her. Then I will take her from there.”

  “God bless you, Zofia. We will be outside the courthouse in the morning waiting for you.”

  Zofia nodded.

  Christa took her hand and kissed it. “God bless you, Zofia.”

  “I will take good care of Katja.”

  “I know that. And Zofia, I am sorry for all that, what you went through. I wish I could have done more.”

  “Christa, you always did right by me. Put your mind at ease. And you don’t have to worry about Katja.”

  “I always knew that if I could find you again, I could count on you.”

  Chapter 87

  As she turned the corner to the street leading to the courthouse, Zofia saw Katja standing beside Christa. Katja held Christa’s hand. She wore a blue velvet dress, and her golden curls glistened, illuminated by the bright sunlight.

  “Zofia…over here,” Christa called out.

  “Hello, Katja.”

  “Good morning, ma’am. My mother says I must go with you.”

  “Yes, that is right.” Zofia smiled.

  “Mama?” Katja said suddenly a little shaken.

  “It’s alright, Katja. This is Zofia. You will be going away with her for a while. Now, be a good girl, and do as Mama tells you.”

  Zofia took the child’s hand. “Do you remember me?”

  The little girl shrugged, unsure.

  Christa silently slipped away. But Katja turned to see her go and cried out “Mama…Mama...” But Christa did not turn around. Instead, she disappeared around the corner.

  Katja began to cry in panic.

  “It’s alright, Sunshine. It’s going to be just fine.” Zofia said smoothing her hair.

  “I’m scared. I don’t know you.”

  “I knew you when you were very little. Perhaps you might remember me singing this song to you?” Zofia began to sing softly “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine….” Zofia’s eyes filled with tears. “You make me happy when skies are grey.” Zofia’s mind drifted back to the night she lay beside Isaac on the floor of the little log cabin in the woods, when she and Shlomie had sung this song.

  Zofia bent until she was eye to eye with Katja. “Do you remember?”

  “I remember. I think I remember…” Katja said. “Sing some more.”

  Zofia lifted Katja into her arms, her arms that had been empty for so long. “You are my sunshine. My only sunshine…” She whispered into Katja’s ear as she took in the sweet childlike fragrance. Then she hugged her tightly. “Don’t be afraid, little one. I will be here for you, from now on.”

  Katja smiled but the tears still stained her face “Where are my mama and papa?”

  “They had to go away for a while. I am going to be your Mama for now.”

  Katja began to sob again. “I want my mother.”

  “Shhh, I know. I know.” Zofia felt the papers from the Lebensborn inside her bra, they was stabbing into her flesh. This poor child had no idea who her real mother was. Someday, Zofia would help her to find out, but not today. Today, and from this day forward, she would comfort and love her as her own.

  Zofia rocked Katja in her arms. Katja moaned, but Zofia continued to rock her smoothing her hair from her forehead and kissing her cheek. Finally, the child put her thumb in her mouth and grew quiet.

  “Come, let’s go home,” Zofia said, putting Katja down on her feet.

  “What shall I call you?” Katja asked.

  “What would you like to call me?”

  “May I call you Mama? Can someone have more than one?”

  “You are a very special girl. You can have as many Mamas as you’d like.”

  “I would like to call you Mama,” Katja said, wiping her eyes and nose with the sleeve of her sweater.

  “Very well, then,” Zofia managed a smile. “I have an idea. How would you like to take a walk through the park? I’ve heard there is a lovely park right down the street.” Zofia had seen an entrance to a park not far from the hotel where she was staying.

  “Yes, I would! Do you think there might be a playground? Do you think there will be ducks? I love to watch the ducks,” Katja said.

  The mention of the park brought a nice distraction. Zofia was glad she’d thought of it. Katja seemed excited.

  Zofia smiled. “I don’t know, but why don’t we go there and find out?”

  Katja nodded. They walked together in silence. As they turned the corner, Katja tripped on a piece of stone that had fallen on the cobblestone walk from one of the bombed-out buildings. Before the child could fall, Zofia caught her.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, but my ankle hurts a little.”

  “Why don’t you hold my hand? That way I can keep you steady if you lose your balance?”

  “No thank you…” Katja said.

  “Please, do it for me? I could fall over one of these big rocks, and then who would be there to help? If I am holding your hand, that will keep me from falling, too. We can steady each other.”

  “Really? I would be helping you?”

  “Yes, you would. You don’t realize how much you really would,” Zofia said her heart aching.

  “Then, of course, I will take your hand.” Katja smiled. “You should have said so.”

  “You’re right. I should have.”

  A vendor cart stood at the open gate in front of the park. The old woman was selling cookies and sausages.

  “Are you hungry?” Zofia asked.

  Katja shrugged.

  “Don’t be shy.” Zofia nudged her, “How about a cookie?”

  Katja nodded her head enthusiastically.

  After she bought the treat, Zofia handed the little girl with her cookie wrapped in white paper.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome,” Zofia smiled.

  The two ducked through the canopy gate entrance and into the park. Then hand-in-hand they walked along a narrow sidewalk through an overgrown garden of lush grass, thick green trees and sprinkled with flowers and weeds in vibrant shades of purple, pink and yellow. It was obvious that there had not been much manicuring lately but the result was magnificent. Occasionally they saw a tree that had fallen due to the bombing, but otherwise the park was like a Garden of Eden, filled with God’s natural abundance
.

  “Look, there is a bridge… Is that the ocean?” Katja asked, pointing to a sunlit body of water beneath an iron bridge that had somehow been spared by the bombs that had destroyed so many buildings.

  “No, Sunshine, it’s not the ocean. It’s just a pond,” Zofia said, looking out at the water.

  “Isn’t it pretty? I think I see ducks swimming in there.”

  “Yes, it is very pretty, and I think you’re right. There are ducks in the water. Do you like it here?”

  “I do like it, but it kind of frightens me too. That bridge, it looks like the bridge that was in a story my mother once read to me. It was a story about a mean troll that ate billy goats who crossed his bridge. Do you think there are mean trolls hiding underneath?”

  “No, I don’t think so. Would you like to walk up onto the bridge?’

  “No, I’m scared.”

  “You can’t see the ducks very well from here now can you? I’ll tell you what. I promise you that you will be safe. I will keep you safe. Put your trust in me, all right?” Zofia knelt down until her eyes were level with the child’s and squeezed Katja’s hand. “When I was a little girl,” Zofia said, “We used to go to Shul on Yom Kippur. That is a very important Jewish holiday. And on that day, our rabbi used to say this prayer. It was called “The Narrow Bridge.” Would you like to hear it?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right then, now you must listen closely, and I will tell you.” Zofia smiled. Katja returned the smile. “Are you ready?”

  Katja nodded.

  Zofia nodded back. Then she began her voice soft and soothing.

  “The world in which we live can be a narrow bridge. The most important thing is not to fear. Keep moving straight ahead and your heart will be led by God. Don’t waste your day in dread. Help is near.

  A narrow bridge, a narrow bridge, but every step across will lead you home.

  So many things have changed; nothing near the same. Is it the way you thought it would be? Hang on every hope. I climb the burning rope. Suspended free, I float look up and see.

  A narrow bridge, a narrow bridge, but every step across will lead you home.”

  “I don’t understand what it means, but I like the way it sounds,” Katja said

  “Well, it means don’t be afraid. God is with you, my little Sunshine.”

  “I don’t know much about God, but my papa used to say that Jews were bad, and you said that this was a Jewish prayer.”

  “Well, I am Jew. Am I a bad person?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Katja, you are very young. Keep your mind free and you will learn a lot in the years to come,” Zofia, said kissing Katja’s forehead. “Now, do you trust me enough to climb the bridge holding my hand?”

  Katja nodded, her eyes clear and bright with faith. Zofia felt tears form in her own eyes. From this day forward Katja would be her own child. She would love her and raise her to be a good person. She would do everything in her power to erase any evil planted in this innocent child’s mind by the Nazis. And, most of all, she would take this little vulnerable person and protect her with her life if need be. Zofia bent down, took Katja in her arms, and hugged her warmly as she vowed this to herself.

  They walked across the bridge hand-in-hand, stopping in the middle to look across the pond that appeared golden from the light of the sun.

  “We are going to England, leaving tomorrow. It will be a great adventure.” And then Zofia continued speaking, more to herself than to Katja “And in the future we will have another, even greater adventure, God willing. Someday, I cannot tell you when, but someday, a ship will leave for Palestine. This is a very special place. You and I will be on that ship. We will go together. There is nothing left for us here, little one. Our lives will begin again in Palestine… the Promised Land.”

  Katja squeezed her hand. “I’m not afraid anymore.”

  Zofia bent down and hugged the little girl, kissing the top of her golden hair.

  Chapter 88

  Before the war, ended British had promised the land of Palestine to be awarded to the Jews. The Zionists held fast to that dream throughout the entire war. This was to be the long-awaited Jewish homeland. Now that the war was over, Great Brittan was not sure that they wanted keep their promise.

  After their liberation from the Nazi terrors, Jewish refugees worked, saved, and waited, in hopes of embarking on the voyage that would carry them far away from Europe and all the memories they wanted to leave behind. Far away, to Palestine, the Promised Land.

  On July 11, 1947, a ship christened Exodus departed from a port located near Marseille, France. Aboard this ship destined for Palestine, 4,515 immigrants sailed with hope in their hearts; 655 of the passengers were children. They were on their way to Palestine, a land where Jews could live without fear, a Promised Land.

  Watching this ship sail out into the open sea, one would believe that this was the end of the Jewish struggle. They would be wrong. This was only the beginning…

  Chapter 89

  July 11, 1947

  The harbor in Site, Sete France

  The boarding of the ship Exodus, on its way to Palestine.

  On a hot morning in early July, with the sun beating relentlessly on their heads, Zofia stood holding Katja’s hand at the dock in Site, France, near Marseilles. Zofia watched Katja look around with excitement and wished she still had enough innocence left inside of her to feel some of that awe. All she knew was that she was leaving Europe forever, and with it the bitter memories of the Nazis and the war. The English were not pleased about surrendering the land they promised to the Jews, and Zofia expected that there would be problems ahead. She gazed at the boat, a massive vessel with the word Exodus shining in black letters on her side. There had been much speculation among her friends about whether this boat would be allowed to go all the way across the seas to Palestine, or somehow be diverted back to dreaded German soil. Passage had cost her everything she’d saved, but for Zofia, it was worth the risk. Through discussions about Palestine with Isaac, she’d come to yearn for a Jewish homeland. They’d talked of it often, and it was a dream that they shared. Now she would embark upon that dream with a precious child who was just as much a victim of Hitler’s madness as she had been. A child not of her body, but a child she had come to love fully and completely.

  The lines to board the vessel were long. Everyone stood waiting holding his or her papers, and any belongings they had.

  A sailor strolled by with a tiny puppy. The dog barked and Katja turned around. Then, Katja loosened her grip on Zofia’s hand, and went running out of line to see the little golden dog.

  “Come back, Katja!” Zofia cried out. “I cannot go after you. We will lose our place in line.”

  Katja caught up with the man. She was playing with the dog and giggling as the little mutt licked her hand. There were too many people and too much chaos at the port that day for Zofia to allow Katja out of her site. She left her place in the line to go after the child.

  Zofia ran, pushing the crowds out of her way until she reached Katja.

  “Look, Mama, isn’t she a beautiful puppy? Can I have one when we get to Palestine, please?”

  “Katja, I don’t know. I don’t know what things will be like when we get to Palestine. If it’s possible, I will get you a dog. For right now, you must not leave my side under any circumstances. We talked about this last night. It would be far too easy for you to get lost here, or on the boat, and then anything could happen. Do you understand me?” Zofia reprimanded Katja voice harsher than she would have liked due to her nerves at almost losing sight the child at the crowded port.

  Katja looked up a Zofia, her lower lip puffed out. Her feelings were hurt, and she began to sob.

  “I’m sorry, Sunshine. Don’t cry. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I know you only wanted to see the dog, but please, you must not leave my side. You are far too precious to me. I don’t want to lose you… All right? Promise me.”

  Katja no
dded.

  “Now give me your hand. We will have to go to the end of the line. We’ve lost our place.”

  Zofia and Katja walked together past the crowds who waited to board the Exodus. The smell of sweat permeated the air.

  “Zofia!” A voice rang out from somewhere within the line of tattered refugees. “Zofia…” It was a voice she recognized, in fact, one she could not mistake. The bright rays of the sun on that crystal blue day stung her eyes as she surveyed the crowd in search of the voice who called for her, the one who knew her by name.

  And then, her breath caught and her lungs tightened, her hand went to her throat. She was shocked with recognition as she looked right into the eyes of a very familiar face.

  “Zofia…”

  “Oh my God, it’s you,” she said.

  “Yes, it’s me…”

  Zofia felt dizzy, as if she might faint. Her heart beat too fast. Could she believe her eyes, or were they deceiving her, blinded by the sun’s bright rays? All around her Zofia heard the buzz of conversations, and in each one she heard words like “…the Promised Land…” “…a place of safety, a home for our people…,” “…a Jewish homeland at last, where our children can grow up without fear…”

  The crowded line of hopeful, tattered, and broken refugees moved forward. A light sunshower fell from the sky.

  “The end of our suffering, finally the end of our suffering,” someone said.

  Zofia could hardly catch her breath. “You’re here?” She said knowing it sounded foolish, but she could not believe her eyes.”Is it really you?” The words caught in her throat.

  “Perhaps we will finally have a land where we can live in safety, a place to call our home….” a man said to another man who wore a tall black hat..

  “Yes, we have surely waited a long time, and oy, how we have suffered for this. But now, praise God we are on our way to Palestine, to the Promised Land,” a woman answered the man with the black hat, tears covering her bony cheeks.

 

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