Children of the Stars

by Mario Escobar

  A thick blanket of snow covered the fields and forests that bitterly cold winter. The children got up quickly, completed their morning routines, and then went to class. That morning, Jacob had particularly enjoyed their morning exercises, the schoolwork, and the company of friends. Daniel had congratulated him on his progress, and he was eager to tell Anna and Moses about his day.

  Jacob ran from his school building to where Moses had class. He waited impatiently at the door until he saw Moses with Jean-Pierre, his constant companion. It was Saturday, but during the winter they spent Saturdays reviewing the week’s material and putting their new knowledge into practice. Since they could not go to the river or explore the fields and forests, they spent their time in school.

  Moses greeted his brother as soon as he saw him. “Hi, Jacob!”

  “Hey! Do you want to go sledding down the mountain? I found this at school,” he said, proudly holding out an old wooden sled.

  Moses’s and Jean-Pierre’s eyes popped with excitement when they understood what Jacob was holding. The children of Le Chambon-sur-Lignon often went sledding on Sunday afternoons, but there were so many children and so few sleds that they rarely got more than a couple turns. But now they could spend the whole afternoon with their own sled.

  “Let’s get Anna, but don’t tell anybody else,” Jacob said.

  “Sure. But tonight you should all come to dinner. My mother told me to invite you.”

  “I love everything your mother and Alice make,” Jacob said, pleased at the thought. They walked down a parallel street so the rest of the children would not follow them and want to share the sled.

  Jacob went up to the second floor of the house where Anna took classes. That afternoon she seemed more melancholy than usual. It had been almost three months since her mother had been taken, and no word of her had come. Yet the news that did arrive of what was occurring to Jews deported to the north was horrifying.

  “I have a surprise,” Jacob announced behind her, putting his hands over her eyes.

  “A surprise? You’re nuts,” she retorted.

  “Well, we already knew that,” he joked, letting his hands fall.

  “But where’s the surprise?” she asked, let down.

  “I didn’t bring it up here, but if you hurry up, you’ll see it in just a minute.” They ran down the stairs, out of the building, and across the street to meet up with Moses and Jean-Pierre in the alley.

  “A sled!” Anna cried when she saw the bundle behind the boys.

  “Yes, and all for us. I have to return it tonight, but we can enjoy it until we go have dinner at Jean-Pierre’s house.”

  The four of them headed toward one of the steepest slopes outside of town. It was hard to climb in the snow, and once on top, they were surprised to see the drop below them.

  “Don’t you think it’s dangerous?” Anna asked, her stomach tightening at the steep descent.

  “I’ll go first to make sure,” Jacob said. He climbed on the sled and without a second thought shoved off at full speed. As it descended, Jacob whooped and hollered with glee, fighting to keep his balance. He was down the hill within seconds, then turned and ran the sled back up.

  “It’s incredible!” he panted. “You’ve got to try it. Though, to be safe, we should go in pairs. Who wants to go first with me?”

  Moses and Jean-Pierre both raised their hands and ran to get on the sled.

  “Oh, come on, be gentlemen. You should let Anna go first.”

  The boys briefly pouted but finally let Anna go. She sat behind Jacob, and Moses and Jean-Pierre gave them a push. With the extra weight, the sled descended even faster than before. They spent the next hour going up and down the mountainside until it was nearly time for supper.

  “Okay, this will be the last ride,” Jacob said, moving the sled into position. Anna sat behind him, and they were off. At the end of the ride, the sled tipped and dumped them out onto the snow. Jacob rolled over but before he could get up, Anna leaned over and gently kissed his lips. It lasted only the briefest moment, but for Jacob it was a delightful eternity.

  Moses and Jean-Pierre came tumbling down after them and, seeing the kiss, cried out and started pelting them with snowballs. “That’s disgusting!” Moses yelled.

  Jacob chased and caught him, commencing a snow battle that left them all completely soaked. “We’ve got to get going,” Jean-Pierre finally said. “Father will be home soon, and they’ll be waiting on us for supper.”

  They picked up their bags, straightened out their clothing, and brushed the snow as well as they could off their coats and hats. Then they took off running for the parsonage. It was already dark, and the light from the street lamps lit up the spotless snow behind the church. They wiped their feet before going inside and hung their coats in the hallway. As soon as they crossed the threshold, the comforting warmth of the fireplace reached them. All four of the children, shivering with cold, went to warm up by the fire. Nelly, Jean-Pierre’s older sister, was peeved.

  “I had to set the table and get everything ready by myself. Where have you all been?”

  Jacob had hidden the sled outside the house and had warned the others not to mention it, so he would not get in trouble at his boardinghouse.

  Magda came out of the kitchen carrying a huge white soup pot. She chatted with Alice and seemed to be in such a good mood she hardly noticed the children’s clothes. “Have you washed your hands?” she asked distractedly.

  They all four ran to the bathroom, scuffling to be first, then returned noisily to the dining room.

  “André is at a meeting with the youth leaders, and he might be a while. So you children go on and eat. I don’t want you up all night. And you boys will have to get back to your homes soon,” Magda said. Her tone made them feel like they were just three more Trocmés.

  “If you’d like, I can take them back to their homes,” Alice offered. She was always willing to help. Since her arrival at Christmastime, Magda had regained her former energy and upbeat spirits. Though she never shook the concern for what might happen to her husband and the other leaders of the civil movement against the Nazis, it did not keep her from working tirelessly.

  The children threw themselves into the chairs around the table and, the moment the prayer was over, grabbed their spoons and dug into the soup. Within minutes, they were on their second helpings.

  Alice and Magda returned to the kitchen. Seeing the children eat heartily made them glad, but they had much to do to get ready for the next day. They had only been working a few minutes when they heard a knock at the door.

  Magda went and opened it, unconcerned. A cold gust blew a few snowflakes into the entryway, and Magda was still smiling when she saw the dark, imposing figures of two gendarmes.

  At first, she did not know how to react. It was unusual for them to drop by to visit André at this time of night, especially in winter.

  “Can I help you?” she finally asked.

  “Is this where the pastor André Trocmé lives?” one of the policemen said.

  “Yes, but he’s not here at the moment. Why do you want to see him?” she asked, curious.

  “It’s a personal matter.”

  Magda presumed it had to do with a transfer. When children were rescued from a refugee camp, the gendarmes often oversaw the transfer.

  “My husband is a rather busy man, but you can come in and wait in his study. He should be home soon.”

  The men politely removed their hats and followed her down the hall to Trocmé’s office. Magda left them and returned to the kitchen.

  Alice had not seen who came in. “Who was it?” she asked.

  Magda shrugged it off. “Some gendarmes looking for André.”

  The women went back to their work, unaware that Trocmé had come to the house through the door by the church and gone directly to his office, meeting the gendarmes.

  “Good evening, gentlemen,” he said, taken aback. He had not expected visitors at that hour.

  “Are you
the pastor André Trocmé?” the corporal asked.

  “Yes, sir. May I ask why you need to know?”

  “I’m sorry, but we’ve been sent to arrest you.”

  “Arrest me?” Trocmé asked, surprised. He had envisioned this moment for months yet had always imagined it playing out differently, not in the late evening, not with two gendarmes in his office.

  “And why are you arresting me?” he asked.

  “We’re just following orders. Please, gather your things and we’ll be on our way,” the gendarme answered flatly.

  “May I say goodbye to my family?” Trocmé was worried about how Magda and the children would react, but he could not leave without saying goodbye.

  “Yes, but please don’t drag it out. It’ll be better for everyone if it’s brief.”

  The three men walked to the dining room, but the gendarmes waited at the doorway. Trocmé went into the kitchen, and Magda turned to greet him. “Oh, hi! Two gendarmes are waiting for you in your office,” she said, having nearly forgotten about them.

  “Yes, I’ve seen them,” he answered calmly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

  “Well, what did they want?” Magda asked, seeing that he was not offering any information.

  “To arrest me. They’ve come to take me to the gendarmerie in Tence.”

  Magda’s eyes widened. She thought she had misunderstood her husband, but his pained grimace confirmed the worst.

  “But why are they arresting you?” she cried frantically.

  “I’m not sure. Likely for not collaborating with the Germans or the prefect. I’d better get ready for a little trip.” Trocmé kept his voice steady.

  Magda flew from the kitchen to their bedroom, brought a suitcase down from the armoire, and was shocked to find it empty. She left it on the bed and went back out to the hall, where her husband and the gendarmes were waiting.

  “The suitcase isn’t packed! You’ll have to wait just a moment. We’ve had one packed since the summer, just in case, but since it’s been so cold, I’ve had to take the clothing out for us to use. Could you spare us just a few more minutes?”

  The gendarme nodded. “Of course, madam.”

  “We were just about to eat, and now everything will be cold. I wonder, have you two eaten? How about we all have something since it’s all warm and ready?”

  This did take the gendarmes by surprise. Was she really offering to feed the officers who had come to arrest her husband? They looked at each other. The younger gendarme’s voice quivered, and involuntary tears came to his eyes.

  “Ma’am, you don’t know how hard it is to do this. Everyone knows your husband, and—”

  Magda cut in. “Oh, don’t apologize, gendarme. You’re just doing your duty.”

  The policemen felt like miserable heels and awkwardly wiped their eyes and cleared their throats. Alice appeared with two plates of food and held them out to the gendarmes. At first they waved off the food, but then they nibbled on a bit of meat and bread. At that moment, Suzanne Gibert, Trocmé’s goddaughter, walked into the house and saw the gendarmes. She turned and ran back to town.

  The young woman started calling all the parishioners of the village and the residents of the schools and boardinghouses. By the time the Trocmés and their gendarme guests had finished a quick meal, a small crowd had gathered at the church.

  Meanwhile, the children continued their meal in the dining room. Eventually Jacob got up from the table, curious as to why the Trocmés were eating in the kitchen. He was startled to see two gendarmes eating at the front door. He ran to tell Magda.

  “Magda, there are two gendarmes at—”

  “Yes, we know. Don’t worry. André needs to go with them.”

  Jacob was immediately worried, but he tried to be calm so as not to alarm Moses and the others. “But the pastor hasn’t done anything wrong. Why are they arresting him?” he asked in a low voice.

  “Sometimes justice and authority don’t line up. The police typically arrest dangerous people and criminals, but we live in very challenging times, as you know. But God will protect him, don’t you worry,” Magda said, ruffling his hair.

  Trocmé picked up his small suitcase and went to his children. They surrounded him in a tangle of hugs. “Don’t worry about me,” Trocmé said. “I’ll be back before you can even think about it. Behave yourselves and obey your mother. Help her every way you can, so when I get back she can tell me you’ve been wonderful children.”

  Moses and Anna hugged him as well, and Jacob also ran to him. Trocmé had been a father to them all.

  “Thank you,” Jacob said, his face smashed against Trocmé’s shoulder. “Without you, I couldn’t have gotten through this time without my parents.”

  “Don’t worry, Jacob, I’ll be back. Take care of the younger ones,” Trocmé told him. He was smiling, but behind his glasses, tears were trickling down his cheeks and moistening the collar of his shirt.

  Trocmé wiped his face with a handkerchief. He did not want people to think he was afraid of whatever awaited him.

  “Gentlemen,” he said to the two gendarmes.

  “Let’s go out by the door of the church—make all this as easy and quick as possible. We don’t want to cause a scene. Think of your parishioners,” one of the gendarmes said.

  “There will be no scenes on my account. The brethren of the church won’t pull any stunts. They know I wouldn’t stand for it.”

  Trocmé kissed Magda’s forehead, squeezed Alice’s hand, walked down the hall, and reached the door by his office. When they stepped out of the house and into the church, they saw the waiting crowd. The gendarmes each took one of Trocmé’s arms. The parishioners’ faces were painted with anger, but Trocmé motioned for them to stay calm.

  “Don’t stop walking,” the gendarme told him.

  Then the policemen saw that the people were approaching with all sorts of objects and placing them on a large table. There was food, a warm garment, gloves, pens and paper, and even a roll of toilet paper.

  Trocmé was heartened to see their demonstrations of affection. People touched his arms and spoke words of encouragement.

  Jacob and the rest of the children went out of the house and around one side of the church. When they got to the front, they saw the crowd, five police cars with armed gendarmes, and a group of students from the Cévenol school. The students had formed a protective tunnel, and at the end of it stood Daniel Trocmé. Jacob ran and joined the group.

  Inside the church, Trocmé gathered up all the gifts from the parishioners into his suitcase. But before closing it, one of the gendarmes touched his shoulder and held out a pack of matches.

  “Please, accept this from me.”

  Trocmé was heartened again, sensing the strength of love operating in that moment despite the concurrent suffering. He thought of his parishioners and wondered if they would have the courage to continue the struggle. Immediately he knew the answer was yes. They were all there—men, women, children, and the elderly—as a sign of their bravery. With tears in their eyes, showing their respect and affection, these people would not give up easily. Trocmé knew they were the ones teaching him in that moment, showing him that, despite all the sacrifice and the many sleepless nights, he had always received much more than he had given.

  “Thank you,” he said to the gendarme and put the matches in his pocket.

  The freezing air of the street brought back to him the full weight of reality. The crowd that had gathered outside the church was even larger than the one inside. He heard words of encouragement, recognized several voices, and could imagine all their faces, the same faces he had seen Sunday after Sunday. He was momentarily distracted with the thought of who would preach the next day in church. It was Saturday, and he had already prepared his sermon. Someone would surely stand in for him.

  The students started singing a hymn written by Martin Luther over four hundred years before, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God”:

  A mighty fortress
is our God,

  a bulwark never failing;

  our helper he, amid the flood

  of mortal ills prevailing . . .

  As Trocmé walked to the car, he saw his good friend Edouard Theis had also been arrested and, beside him, Roger Darcissac. It pained him more to see those men taken than himself. He closed his eyes and kept walking. Jacob stretched out his hand and gave him a pencil. Not just any pencil, though. Jacob had brought it from Paris and kept it safe in his pocket for months. It was the pencil his father had used to mark up the books he read. It was the last physical thing Jacob had that linked him to his father—but he wanted to somehow express to Trocmé his love and respect.

  Trocmé nodded at him and mouthed, “Thank you, Jacob.” His tearstained face smiled. Jacob impulsively jumped out of the line of students and hugged Trocmé again. The gendarmes stopped short, but the pastor merely stroked the boy’s hair and kept walking.

  “I’ll see you soon. Thank you for the pencil,” he called. He walked the last few yards to where his fellow detainees awaited. He, Theis, and Darcissac embraced before climbing into the cars. It was quiet until the motors revved to life.

  The crowd was silent as the police cars drove away. The sky was a frozen black expanse above. Little by little, everyone returned home. Daniel Trocmé called to Jacob, Anna, and Moses.

  “Let’s go,” he said, his head hung low. He had no words to cheer them out of their mutual gloom.

  They dropped Anna off first, and Jacob stepped ahead of the group to say goodbye at the door.

  “I’m scared,” she confessed, trembling.

  Jacob hugged her, noticing how wet and cold her coat was, then stepped back to look at her. “André told me he’d be back, and he always keeps his promises.”

  Anna gave him a soft, sad kiss, turned, and went inside. Jacob stood, paralyzed. The day had held the highest highs and the lowest lows. He loved Anna, though he hardly knew what that meant. And though he had acted calm, he was also terrified. Jacob felt that, though Trocmé was just one man, the pastor had become a symbol for all of them and somehow represented the courage they could have if they united themselves instead of fighting the fear alone.