Shadow of His Hand

by Wendy Lawton

  “But what about Vati? Would we leave him?” Hella asked.

  “Now that he is a Nazi and remarried to an Aryan, he’s in no danger, Hella. The situation here in Germany worsens every day. I’m sensing that war clouds gather. Nazi troops are even now marching into Austria.”

  “But surely we are safe,” Hella argued. “Because you married an Aryan and because you are not a religious Jew, you’ll not be troubled, right? And we are half Aryan.”

  “So far it seems that way, but the situation changes every day. There may come a time when Hitler will decide we, too, are Jewish enough for his wrath. What if that time comes when it is too late to leave?”

  Anita closed her book and reached for Teddy. She might already be ten years old, but she still loved Teddy. She had other bears—her newer Steiff, Petzie, and a tiny one named Pimmie—but Teddy was the one she loved. His joints were loose and Mutti had patched his felt paw pads more than once. His fur had practically worn off in spots, but he had the kindest face. Something about him still comforted her when things went topsy-turvy. The thought of leaving Germany made her stomach ache.

  The next morning they woke early and took the streetcar before most of Breslau even stirred. They got off at the closest stop and walked the last few blocks to St. Barbara’s Lutheran Church.

  “What a pretty church.” Anita loved the old stone church on sight with its tall bell tower and steep roofs. The interior nearly took her breath away. The vaulted ceilings soared high above the stone floor. Sunlight streamed in through the arched windows.

  “You are right, Anita. This is a beautiful church.” Mutti spoke in a hushed voice.

  The singing, the readings, the sermon—all made Anita feel as if she’d finally come home. She looked at Mutti to see her listening closely. Hella sat quietly, but Anita could see that her attention wandered.

  After the service, the pastor came up to meet them. “Welcome. I’m Pastor Ernst Hornig.”

  “I am Hilde Dittman and these are my daughters, Hella and Anita. I am a Jew, though my husband is not.” Mutti waited for a reaction.

  “You are most welcome at St. Barbara’s. The Lord seems to be sending many of His people our way.” Pastor Hornig laughed. “We are delighted that He trusts us with His chosen ones.”

  Anita knew already she liked this man. The way he bent over as he talked to his people reminded her of the stained glass window at the Menzels’ church showing Jesus feeding His followers. Maybe that was why Pastor Hornig seemed familiar.

  Mutti spoke with him about passports and visas, and he promised to come visit them soon so they could talk at length.

  And he was as good as his word. He came to visit—not once, but many times. He began the work to get them documentation to leave Germany and things looked promising. In the course of his visits, Anita found out that he and his wife had six children. He liked to talk about his family and the church, but, even more, he liked to talk about the Lord.

  “Do you know the Lord, Anita?” Mutti and Hella hadn’t yet come home, and as he waited for Mutti, he visited with Anita.

  She told him the story of the windows. “Jesus came into my heart that day, but I don’t know very much about Him.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing I brought presents today,” he said. He handed her a package wrapped in brown paper and twine. “Open it.”

  Anita unwrapped the package. It had been a long time since she had received a present. Inside were three new Bibles. “For me?”

  “Not all of them.” He laughed. “One for you, one for your mother, and one for Hella. Do you like my gift?”

  Anita ran her hands across the binding. “I do. Ever so much! I will read it every day.”

  “I not only want you to read it, I want you to try to memorize parts of it. We never know when we may find ourselves without a Bible.”

  Mutti and Hella walked in.

  “Look! Pastor Hornig brought us each a Bible.”

  Mutti took hers. “How can we ever thank you for all you do? The more I’ve come to know you, the more I realize the sacrifice you make for us and for other Jews. Not just financially, though I know these Bibles cannot have been inexpensive.” Mutti opened hers. “You know the risk you take for yourself and for your family by befriending Jews, neh?”

  “Of course I know. I’m already blacklisted, but the Lord continues to shield me. God does not call us to an easy faith. Too many in the church have given over and allowed Hitler to commandeer their pulpits.” Pastor Hornig shook his head. “I’m not alone. There are several of us. We call ourselves the Confessing Church and are committed to following Christ no matter the cost.”

  “I first came to your church because of the possibility of getting help to flee Germany … and I appreciate all the help you’ve offered.” Mutti sat down across from the pastor. “What I found was far more valuable. I found a faith I could finally trust.”

  Pastor Hornig tilted his head and waited for her to go on.

  “At first I watched you, wondering why you did what you did, but it wasn’t long until I saw that you always pointed us to Jesus. I realized you couldn’t do what you do without Him. I want that kind of faith as well.”

  Anita hadn’t moved, but those were the words she had longed to hear. She looked to see if Hella felt the same way, but she was busying herself with the hot water kettle.

  “Hilde, all you have to do is to confess your sin and ask the Savior to cleanse you of that sin. He will do the rest.”

  And Mutti did, right then and there.

  Church became the center of their lives. Despite the worsening political climate and impending war, Anita felt a peace like she’d never felt before. Mutti seemed to feel the same.

  Attending school at Bethany became another bright spot. Deaconesses taught the classes. They were kind and fair and didn’t seem to notice whether a student was an Aryan or a Jew. Not a single “Heil Hitler” could be heard in the school and none of the students belonged to the Hitler Youth organization. For the first time in her life, Anita worried about things like clothes, sports, and friends. Bethany Lutheran School remained an island of calm in a sea of chaos. For some reason, Hitler had not yet closed the parochial schools, though he’d announced his intention to do so. Anita guessed he just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

  One day Anita stayed late at school. As she walked home alone, she saw someone running toward her in the distance. It looked like Hella. As the figure grew closer, Anita’s stomach clenched. Panic lined Hella’s face.

  “Quick, come.” Hella grabbed Anita’s hand. “Mutti’s been arrested.”

  Mutti arrested? How can that be? Anita ran. She no longer cared about drawing attention to herself. How would she live without Mutti?

  When they reached the apartment, Anita couldn’t believe it. Every drawer was open with its contents dumped on the floor. “What were they looking for?”

  “I don’t know. According to Frau Schmidt, the Gestapo came. At first they searched for something incriminating, but when they found nothing, they accused Mutti of ‘race disgrace.’” Hella sat down on the floor in the middle of the mess. “Frau Schmidt said that someone told the Nazis that Vati had been with Mutti last night. Aryans must not ‘fraternize’ with Jews—it’s now a crime.”

  Anita automatically reached for Teddy. “But we haven’t seen Vati. It’s a lie!”

  “That’s the sad part. Charges do not need to be true.”

  “What will happen to Mutti?”

  “I don’t know. If the charges are dismissed, she may be home tonight.” Hella left it at that, but Anita understood how big an “if” it was.

  The girls set about cleaning the apartment and putting everything to rights. Their boarders had long since moved out since it was now dangerous for a German to be living with a Jewish family. That meant that the girls could talk freely. When everything in the room had been tidied, there was nothing to do but wait. The sound of the clock ticking reminded them that the night slipped away.

&nb
sp; Anita prayed as she waited. She repeated the verse from Isaiah she’d first heard at Mass with Gunther. Pastor Hornig considered it a promise for the Jews: I have put my words in your mouth and covered you with the shadow of my hand—I who set the heavens in place, who laid the foundations of the earth, and who say to Zion, “You are my people.” She repeated that verse many times as she waited.

  Finally, when it seemed too late to hope for a release, they heard the soft sound of footsteps in the hall outside the door.

  “Mutti!” Both girls grabbed her at the same time.

  “Let me come inside, girls.” She looked exhausted. “This time I was released from these false charges, but I’ve been blacklisted. I will be watched from now on.” She sighed. “In fact, we will all be watched.”

  Hella poured Mutti a cup of the drink they called coffee—it was actually made of grain, but it was hot and it was soothing.

  “Let’s pray and thank God for my freedom, even if temporary.” Mutti bowed her head and began to pray. “… and Lord, speed the paperwork for our escape from Germany before it’s too late.” Rather than let that petition stand, however, she added, “Not my will, however, but Thine be done. Amen.”

  Anita nearly nodded off during the prayer, but she silently added her thanks … and continue to keep us safe under the shadow of Your hand.

  Shattered Fragement

  Hilde.”

  Anita heard the name whispered outside the door, followed by a barely audible knock. “Come in,” she said. She recognized the voice of their friend.

  Frau Schmidt quickly stepped inside the door. Her hair stood up as if she’d been running her hand through it. She looked past Anita and spoke directly to Mutti. “They are burning the synagogues and smashing the windows of any businesses still left in Jewish hands.” Her chest seemed to deflate as she hunched over as if to protect her heart. “Mein Gott. May He protect His children throughout this night.”

  “Thank you for telling us, Frau Schmidt. I’ll turn on the wireless.” Mutti put an arm around her friend. “You must leave. It is far too dangerous for you to be here. If anyone suspects you of aiding a Jew, the punishment will be swift.”

  “How can Christians stand by? You do know I’d hide you if it came to that.”

  “You must not say things like that. You take enormous risks. Hitler’s ears and eyes are everywhere, including our own building.” Mutti wrung her hands together. “They brag that Breslau is one of the most Nazi cities in all of Germany. You must be careful.”

  “Don’t go out. Don’t let the girls go to school. Ever since your blacklisting, I worry about you.” Frau Schmidt kissed Mutti and slipped out the door.

  As their neighbor took her leave, Hella turned on the wireless. As she moved the dial, the eerie woo-ee noises, screeches, and static increased and decreased until Mutti found a station broadcasting a strong signal.

  “… and this will be a night to remember. Some are already calling it Kristallnacht—the night of broken glass. Apparently, tonight’s action was a well-coordinated attack by the Nazis all across Germany in retaliation of the assassination of the German ambassador to Paris, Ernst vom Rath, by a Jewish youth.”

  The report went on, sounding more like the spirited account of a sporting match than the unfolding of a night of horror.

  “Frau Schmidt is right,” Mutti said. “We must stay put. Hella, you peek out the curtains to see what is happening around us. Be careful not to move them in case we are being watched.”

  The wireless alternated between news reports and Nazi patriotic music. “… Jews are being taken for questioning throughout the country …”

  “Mutti, can we pray? I’m frightened. Not just for us, but for everyone.” Anita held her stomach and tried to get the shaking to stop.

  “Can we please stop talking about God?” Hella put her hands over her ears. “Our world is falling apart. If God really existed, how could He let this happen?”

  “Dear God in heaven,” Mutti prayed, “we are frightened, we are sad, and we are filled with doubts. Touch each of our hearts. Calm us and care for us. Be with the people of Germany—those facing death and those trying to face their fears.”

  During Mutti’s prayer, Anita’s tears began to fall. At first her tears were for all those who faced the Nazis tonight. Soon her tears were for her own fears and loss. She could hear Hella crying as well.

  “… thank You for those who reach out to help us, like Frau Schmidt, Pastor Hornig, and the Menzels. Protect us, protect them, and rid our land of this evil scourge. Amen.”

  When the prayer finished and Anita’s tears stopped, she felt refreshed somehow. Her hands no longer trembled.

  They settled in for a long night of waiting.

  The waiting stretched into five days before the siege ended. During those days, the hours were punctuated by the smell of smoke and the sounds of shattering glass, the percussion of heavy boots running in the street, fists pounding against doors, and sobbing—always sobbing.

  Once the sirens finally stopped, word began to filter in from the Jews around them. Many family members had been herded up and taken away. Old men were pulled out of their houses by their beards, right in front of their families.

  The hate messages continued on the wireless. The announcers boasted that soon Germany would be Judenrein—completely free of Jews.

  “How will they do that, Mutti?” Anita couldn’t figure out where all the Jews would go. Would Hitler allow them all to escape to England?

  “You’ve heard talk of concentration camps, neh?” Mutti asked.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s how they begin. It seems to be a moving and a gathering and more moving—as to the final solution Hitler proposes, we don’t know.”

  Anita hated moving. She still remembered when they had to move from their house to this tiny apartment. It turned her world upside down.

  “The newspaper publishes fresh reports every day declaring certain towns and cities to be Judenrein.” Mutti sighed. “I wonder how much longer until Hella is back with the mail. How I pray that our passports and visas are here.”

  Hella reported back. No visas and passports in the mail. Pastor Hornig had assured Mutti that the documentation could come at any time. When visas came, he promised, St. Barbara’s would help with the cost of travel and relocation.

  The letter that did arrive was not the one they were expecting. Mutti was out when the notice came, so it sat on the table until she returned. Anita and Hella were both home from school. Anita kept opening her book to begin homework, but the letter on the table felt like an evil presence in the room. Without even looking close, she could tell it came from the Gestapo.

  What could it mean? Was it about Vati? Surely if they decided to pick up Mutti, the SS would show up at the door with the order in hand. Was it about her? Hella? She closed her book again. There was no sense in trying to do geometry. Without thinking, she reached over and pulled her tattered Teddy onto her lap. Burying her face in his fur, she inhaled the scent of childhood. She even imagined the faint smell of resin from the floor at Madam’s studio. How life had changed. She guessed it was about to change yet again.

  “Why the long faces?” Mutti came in and put her things on a chair. “Did something happen at school?”

  “Nein, Mutti.” Hella pointed to the letter on the table.

  Mutti picked up the envelope. Her breathing grew rapid and the color drained from her cheeks. With trembling hands, she opened the envelope and read aloud: “Frau Dittman. You must leave your apartment in Zimpel to relocate to a residence in a Jewish neighborhood at 1298 Van Duesen Street where lodgings have been secured for you and your family. You have twenty days to comply with this order.”

  And so it begins. Anita remembered Mutti talking about the movement of Jews. This was step number one—the ghetto. Gather all the Jews together.

  “I know this address,” Mutti said. “It’s right in the Breslau inner city.”

  “Will we take the stre
etcar to Bethany?” Hella asked.

  “As long as it stays open. It’s been nearly a year since Hitler promised to close the parochial schools. But for now they are still open. We ’ll figure out a way to get the carfare.”

  “We may be far from school,” Anita said, “but we’ll be within walking distance of church.” She hated the thought of moving, but the letter could have brought much worse news. The Gestapo’s official blacklist still contained the name Hilde Dittman.

  “Ja, that’s right,” Mutti said. “We will save carfare on Sundays. Now we might even be able to attend church midweek.”

  Anita looked at Hella. She rarely smiled anymore. Maybe it was because she was seventeen and almost done with childhood. They used to pretend how things would be when they grew up—dancing, boyfriends, travel, a huge circle of friends. None of that came true. Now they must move from their tiny Zimple apartment to an even tinier flat in a drafty, rat-infested brownstone.

  “Hella, are you okay?” Mutti looked hard at her older daughter.

  “I don’t know how many more changes I can endure.” Hella sounded worn out. “You and Anita have your faith, which seems to help steady you.” She ran a hand through her long hair. “I’m like Vati. I cannot bear that religious stuff.”

  “That’s true of many people,” Mutti said. “All you need do is give it a fair try and ask God to show you the truth. Keep your skepticism. He’ll answer your honest doubts. The Lord knows what a skeptic I was when I found Him.”

  Hella rubbed the top of her foot against the calf of her leg. “When should we begin to pack?”

  “We’ll have to sell most of our things this time.” Mutti said the words quietly. She knew the girls had given up so much already.

  “Oh, Mutti … no. This is the last we had of our life with Vati.” Hella ran her hand down the front of a polished wooden wardrobe.

  “It cannot be helped. We have no money to pay for movers. Besides it’s better we get the money from selling our things than the Gestapo.”

  Mutti didn’t explain why she thought the Gestapo might get their things, but Anita knew she was thinking one step ahead.