All God's Children

by Anna Schmidt

  “I’m sure it would be a lovely occasion,” he said. “It’s just that my father is quite busy these days, called into headquarters at all hours of the day and night to hear my mother tell it.”

  “Of course. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “But we should set a date anyway,” Franz announced. “And if it falls through, then we can set another. This Sunday, Josef?”

  Josef glanced at Beth. They both understood what Franz was doing. Ilse had been doing so well. She had even begun to accept the relationship between Beth and Josef. If Josef made some excuse— especially a transparent one—it could be enough to undo all the progress that Ilse had made.

  “I’ll call them today. And if this Sunday does not work, perhaps a week after?”

  Ilse gave him a genuine smile—a rarity when it came to the way she usually interacted with him. “That would be fine, Josef. Thank you.”

  Of course his mother was delighted to accept. “It’s about time we had the opportunity to meet Beth’s family,” she told him. “Call it a mother’s intuition, but I sense that you and that young lady have moved well beyond the stage of being just friends.”

  “Now, Mother, it’s a simple invitation for Sunday dinner. Don’t make more of it than—”

  “She’s lovely, Josef, and in spite of her background, this war surely cannot last forever. You deserve your happiness, and it is evident to me that Beth makes you happy.”

  He couldn’t argue that. “All right, Mother, I admit it. She…I… we…”

  His mother’s laughter interrupted his stumbling attempt to put his feelings for Beth into words. “Apparently this delightful young lady leaves you speechless,” his mother said, and Josef had to smile.

  “She does indeed,” he admitted. And breathless as well. “I’ll let the Schneiders know to expect you this Sunday right after church.”

  That night at the meeting of the White Rose, Josef stood across the room from Beth, turning the crank on the mimeograph machine to print more copies of the fifth and latest leaflet. This time they were producing thousands instead of dozens, and the heading was new: Leaflets of the Resistance Movement in Germany: Call to All Germans! It was indicative of the group’s determination to present a more pragmatic and less idealistic message. The contents bluntly stated that the war was lost—Hitler could not win it. He could only prolong it.

  The words of the new leaflet thrilled Beth with their democratic— even American—flavor. Freedom of speech. Freedom of religion. The protection of the individual from the caprice of the criminal, violent States— these are the bases of the new Europe.

  “We need someone to go to Eglofs,” Hans Scholl’s sister, Sophie, announced.

  Silence. Everyone glanced around the room and realized that most already had their assignments. “Or perhaps we could combine—”

  “I’ll do it,” Beth said. All eyes in the room turned to her. “My aunt’s sister lives there,” she explained. “I can say I’m taking my cousin to visit.”

  Josef saw Sophie and Hans exchange a look. He was well aware that they had their doubts about Beth—an American. They had accepted her only because of Willi.

  “I can go as well,” Josef said. “After all, we live in the same apartment, and I am practically considered a member of the family. It would be perfectly natural for Frau Schneider’s sister to want to meet me.”

  “But the child,” Sophie protested. “I mean you’ve told stories of her…precocious nature.”

  “She will be fine,” Beth assured the group. “Trust me,” she added, her eyes meeting Sophie’s.

  Sophie nodded and turned to her brother, who began telling them about plans to meet again with Falk Harnack in early February. Josef barely listened as he worked his way closer to Beth.

  “Why did you do that?” he asked.

  “Somebody has to, and no one was volunteering. Besides it’s a perfect assignment, don’t you think? If I volunteer to take Liesl to visit Aunt Ilse’s sister…”

  “And what if your aunt wishes to come along?”

  He could see by her frown that this was one possibility she had not considered.

  But when told of their plans, Ilse seemed glad for them to go as long as they took Liesl with them. “It will give me peace and quiet for planning Sunday’s dinner for Josef’s parents.” The date had already been postponed twice, and with each cancellation Ilse’s nerves frayed a little more. It was now nearly February. “It will be spring before we persuade your parents to visit, Josef,” Franz had teased.

  Ilse packed them a lunch for the train and filled a second bag with clothing that Liesl had outgrown and that Ilse thought her sister’s children might be able to wear. “Where is that coat, Beth? You know the one Liesl wore last winter? The blue one?”

  “I…one day while you were out, some refugees came to the door, and there was a child, and I…”

  Josef could tell by the way that Beth avoided looking directly at her aunt that she was not telling the entire truth. Then he remembered Anja’s son, Daniel, and the ill-fitting blue coat he’d been wearing the night the family escaped.

  “We should get going,” he said quietly.

  “Yes. I’ll go see what’s keeping Liesl.”

  While Beth went to get her cousin, Josef helped Ilse finish packing the clothing. “Your niece is a generous and kind woman, Frau Schneider,” he said. In all the time he had lived with the family, he still found it impossible to call the woman by her given name.

  To his surprise, she placed her hand lightly on his wrist. “I have been looking for the opportunity to speak with you, Josef. I wish to thank you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Her weariness showed in her eyes as she looked directly at him. “I am not a fool, Josef. I know that my actions may have given you cause to doubt my concern for Beth and my husband and child, but I assure you that I would walk through fire for all of them. Yes, even Beth.”

  “You are confusing me, Frau…Ilse.”

  “My husband does not seem to have nearly so many meetings these days. Yet at the same time he is unable to rest until you and Beth are safely home when you go out in the evenings.” She turned back to the packing, refolding several items so that she could fit still more inside the case. “So I thank you because I believe that you have somehow taken my husband’s place in whatever he was doing.”

  “I…”

  “What I must ask you now is to think long and hard before you continue to involve Beth in this effort—whatever it is. She has a streak of the adventurer in her, and while she may have grown into a mature young woman, the rashness of her youth has not changed. I know what happened to her visa, Josef. I also know that given the opportunity she would repeat that act without a second’s thought for the consequences.”

  Josef was having a hard time grasping what he was hearing. Both Beth and the professor had worked so hard to protect Ilse, to keep her from worrying, and here she had known everything. Well, not everything. So far there was no indication that she knew about Anja.

  “I love Beth, Ilse.”

  “And she loves you. The thing is, Josef, sometimes love is not enough—not nearly enough.” She closed the lid to the suitcase and snapped the latches before handing it to him. “I am trusting you to take care of my family, Josef.”

  Before he could think what to say, Liesl burst into the kitchen, her eyes shining with excitement. “I want to sit by the window,” she announced. “Going and coming home again.”

  Josef laughed and ruffled her short hair. “It will likely be dark when we come home. There will be nothing to see.”

  “But I will know what’s out there,” Liesl explained. “I will have seen it on the way to Tante Marta’s house.”

  Beth picked up the picnic basket. “You’ll be all right?” she asked her aunt.

  “I will be all right. Now go before you miss your train.” She followed them to the front door of the apartment, and just before she closed it, Josef looked back at her. “I promi
se,” he mouthed. She nodded.

  But knowing the true purpose of their journey and feeling the weight of the leaflets they were to deliver hidden under the lining of the case he carried, Josef was not at all sure that this was a promise he could keep.

  The rocking of the train made Liesl nauseous, and she spent much of the trip to Eglofs with her head on Beth’s lap instead of taking in the passing scenery.

  Beth’s thoughts were taken up with the people she’d met in the White Rose. She admired Sophie. It was difficult for her to believe that someone so young—just twenty-one—could be so intense when it came to any discussion of politics or philosophy. Hans’s sister certainly could hold her own when her brother and his friends bemoaned the current state of affairs and what they might do to change things.

  When Beth had first begun attending gatherings of the group, she had mistakenly thought that their only mission was to save their country. But she soon learned that for many of them, their concern went even deeper. Traute Lafrenz—Hans’s former girlfriend, for example, had in 1937, when she was only seventeen, taken risks to care for and protect her Jewish neighbors.

  Seventeen, Beth thought. That was the same age she had been when she first arrived in Munich.

  Then there was Alexander Schmorell—Shurik to those close to him. He was handsome, aristocratic, and part Russian. Every week he would dress in a Russian peasant’s shirt and take food to a group of Polish and Russian laborers serving out sentences of hard labor in the city. More than once Beth had heard him speak of his dream of living out his post-war days in Russia.

  But the single thing that struck Beth most was the bond of friendship that had formed between these men and women of the White Rose. They loved each other as if they were family—in some cases more deeply than family. They were a group not unlike Beth’s Quaker family back home in Wisconsin. But this group did not sit in silence and wait for guidance. Instead they debated and argued and sometimes even shouted at one another until they reached a consensus.

  As the train approached the station in Eglofs, Beth was looking forward to meeting Sophie’s friend, who would meet the train. The plan was for there to be a mix-up in the cases, and then the friend would come racing after them to exchange cases, signaling that she had removed the leaflets from behind the lining in the top of the suitcase.

  But as they stood in the rail station, no one approached them, even though Josef went through the prescribed motion of setting down the suitcase and pretending to make a phone call.

  Several of the pamphlets were already in stamped, addressed envelopes and only needed to be dropped into a mailbox. That part was easy. But at least two hundred copies were intended for distribution in the usual manner. Some would be left in phone booths, others in movie houses or posted on bulletin boards or taped to shop doors under cover of darkness.

  “We can’t do it ourselves,” Beth murmured to Josef while a kind stationmaster tended to Liesl. He had suggested some carbonated water and soda crackers to help settle her stomach. Beth and Josef were following Liesl and the stationmaster to his office. “We have to come up with an alternate plan.” She did not even want to consider why the contact had not shown up as scheduled.

  “You take Liesl and go on to her aunt’s. I’ll manage the rest.” He was carrying the suitcase containing the hidden leaflets. “I’ll be right there,” he said, raising his voice so that the stationmaster heard him. He pointed toward a sign that read TOILETTE. “Feeling a little queasy myself,” he added.

  When he joined them in the stationmaster’s office, Beth saw that he was still carrying the bag but his clothes looked different—bulkier. Surely the stationmaster would notice and demand to know what he was hiding.

  But as it turned out, Liesl saved the day. “I’m feeling better,” she announced, hopping down from the stool she’d been sitting on. “Let’s go. I have cousins who live here,” she told the stationmaster.

  “What do you say, Liesl?” Beth prompted.

  “Thank you.” Then she turned to Josef. “You look different, Josef. You should have a cracker. It will settle your stomach.”

  They all laughed as the stationmaster handed Josef a cracker and then ushered them from his office. Outside the station Josef asked for directions and then led the way to the nearest streetcar stop. “I’ll join you after I’ve finished my business,” he told them, handing Beth the suitcase.

  Beth had not wanted to leave him, afraid that he would be caught and arrested. But what choice did she have? They had Liesl to consider. So she boarded the streetcar, and as the vehicle wound its way round a curve in the road, she saw Josef stuffing several envelopes into a mailbox.

  When she and Liesl reached Marta’s apartment, a half-dozen children—three of them Liesl’s cousins and the other three neighbor children—greeted them. “I care for them during the day while their mother is at work,” Marta explained. “Their father is serving on the Russian front,” she added in a whisper. “I assume you have heard the terrible news?”

  Beth nodded sympathetically. It was not exactly news that serving on the Russian front was the worst possible assignment a soldier could have. Thousands of German soldiers had died there already, yet Hitler continued to push for victory.

  “But why am I spoiling the day with such gloomy thoughts? Come, let’s see what Ilse has sent.” Marta took the suitcase and picnic basket. “Leave it to my sister to pack enough food to feed half the town.”

  “She sent clothes for the children as well,” Beth said, pointing to the other suitcase. “Shall I help unpack that for you?”

  “I’ll do it later. For now let’s ration out this food so that you’ll have something for the train ride home.”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “You could and you will,” Marta instructed. “I understand you and a certain doktor have become—close?”

  “We are…well, that is…”

  “I thought I was going to have the chance to meet this man who has—according to my sister—so captivated you that you passed up an opportunity to return to America.” She grinned. “This must be one gorgeous man.”

  Beth could not get over the difference between Marta and her sister. Where Ilse was always looking for the darker side of a situation, Marta seemed to take everything in stride. She was a large woman who laughed loud and often and seemed completely unaffected by the fact that she now had seven children racing through her apartment, shouting and squealing at the top of their lungs.

  “Josef will be here later. He had some business he needed to attend to. I’m not sure how long it will take,” Beth added apologetically.

  Marta shrugged. “All the more time for us to catch up. Kinder,” she shouted as she clapped her hands together to gain the attention of the children. “Could you manage to keep things down to a proper roar before the neighbors assume that we are under attack?” The woman even found humor in the fact that she was living in the middle of a war.

  They prepared lunch for the children and themselves, with Marta keeping up a one-sided conversation about her husband—a chemist in the village—her children, and her sister. Beth did a lot of nodding and smiling, allowing Marta to carry the burden of the conversation. Every few minutes, she checked the clock that hung on a wall behind the kitchen table. Where was Josef now?

  The afternoon wore on as the clock clicked off the seconds, and the children were persuaded to settle down for the quieter pastimes of playing a card game and drawing pictures for Liesl to take home with her. The neighbor came to fetch her children and was persuaded to stay and share a cup of ersatz coffee with Beth and Marta.

  “Remember real cream?” Marta said with a sigh as she sipped her coffee and made a face.

  The neighbor laughed. “Remember real coffee?”

  The talk turned more serious when Marta asked if there had been any news from the front and the woman had to admit that she had heard nothing for weeks. “Since before Christmas,” she said, her voice breaking. “Nearly two months now.”r />
  “We will hold him in the Light and pray for his safe return,” Marta told her.

  “We could pray now,” Beth suggested, suddenly knowing that taking time to put aside all of her fears for Josef and for this woman’s husband was exactly what was called for.

  “I am not of your faith,” the neighbor said. “I don’t know—”

  “Just close your eyes and empty your mind of all worries and thoughts,” Marta instructed. “You are waiting on God, just waiting, not asking for anything or questioning anything—like why on earth we are involved in this horrible war in the first place. Just close your eyes, and let clarity come to you.”

  “May I pray my rosary?” the neighbor asked.

  “If that’s what works for you,” Marta agreed.

  The street noises faded, and the room went absolutely still except for the rhythmic clicking of the woman’s fingers moving over the beads of her rosary. Beth was also aware of the children quietly talking as they worked on their drawings. She focused all of her thoughts on Josef— willing him to be safe, to come back to her.

  When Marta touched her arm, Beth opened her eyes and immediately glanced at the clock—this one standing on the mantel above the fireplace. Half an hour had passed. Marta was grinning as she drew Beth’s attention to the children. They were sitting in a circle, their hands resting on their knees and their eyes closed—the perfect picture of a Quaker meeting for worship.

  Beth’s eyes welled with tears, and she saw that she was not alone. Both Marta and her neighbor were dabbing at their eyes as they gently prodded the children back into action. “Time to go,” the neighbor said softly, and without protest her three children presented Liesl with their drawings and followed their mother to the door.

  When they opened it, Josef was just coming up the stairs, and Beth thought she might fall into his arms with relief. He looked utterly exhausted, but he smiled when he saw her.

  Introductions were made, and Marta ushered him into the small apartment, insisting on making him a cup of tea. “You look all done in,” she said. “Children, put away your games,” she instructed, and to Beth’s surprise, even Liesl did as she was asked without question or protest.