This is my ninth novel: I dedicate this particular novel to the only true love of my life, Mrs. Londo -this is for you my darling! And of course, the other women in my life are special too!
When my wife and I met, it was love at first sight! We married five months later, and have been married more than 23 years. Therefore, you can see why my honey has been my muse for all the females in all of my books. A little piece of her has gone into several heroines. All strong, independent in nature, yet loving, with a bit of spice, and stubbornness thrown in, and once in a while her softer side to round them off.
Check out my other books:
*Humanity’s Last Stand
*The Cave
*Silverback Island
*Alone In The Woods
*Attila’s Lost Gold
Contact me on face book
This is a fictional story, but many events happened to many Jews. I do not intend downplaying any of the horrors, they went though. We should all be educated, and not forget what took place!
CHAPTER ONE
“INTRODUCTIONS ARE IN ORDER”
If you think about it, love is an incredibly extraordinary, a truly magnificent, and an all so powerfully potent thing. It cannot be seen, or physically touched, or controlled. The way it works cannot exactly be explained. Love can come out of nowhere and pick us out of the blue - it just picks us. We do not pick whom we will fall in love with. If the two-love bird’s care for one another as it ought to be, then the love between the couple will grow and cultivate. It will foster into something quite extraordinary and miraculous - like a prize-winning rose, opening up to the warmth of the afternoon sun. Love can help us see the good in our mates - which others may not. Love helps you look though the superficial things.
Love is also a measure of the toughness that life throws at you. A unvarying test of life, if the relationship can continue to exist all the wild tribulations of life - like starting up a family, a demanding career, growing older together, all the financial ups and downs, good as well as bad health, and the loss of a family member, and all the other stresses that go along with life. But the greatest ordeal of all, to the true strength, the love and bond, and character to the couple in love, is whether or not their old or young. Separation from one another - the inability to physically touch our partners - the smell of their scent, especially if the couples separations comes when it’s a forced severance - caused by evil torrents, against our will - millions upon millions had unfortunately experienced at some stage during war-time, especially during World War Two. When it seemed hell had opened wide open, and humanities survival was being called into question. Civilization was at the brink - close to a tipping point. A number of lovers were forever separated, never to be reunited - rekindling with their one true loves. Others only parted for a short time. And if the two people in love can pull through all this when so much had been stacked up against them trying to pull them apart, adapt to all of life’s challenges, and then they have a pretty good chance at a truly happy, rich, fulfilling, magical life together. Some couples only get to feel this wonderful burning inside - the passion love brings on if only for a fleeting moment, yet it somehow fulfills them for the rest of their lives. Some sadly never experience this. I consider that a true tragedy.
Abram and I were put though our very own test - more than we should have been perhaps - but rather than telling you the end of our own story, living life is the best part of life itself. I like to think of the good in things. I am going to take you way back, to do my story properly…
First - pardon my manors-allow me to introduce myself. Back then, my maiden name was Hana Wakstok. Oh, my goodness, a lot of water has passed under the bridge, since I went by my maiden name - so many seasons. My tale starts off traditionally enough - boy meets girl, and with the sure innocence of the heart of two little children. So innocent-so pure in God’s eyes. My story is out of the ordinary in some respects.
Take a moment; ask yourself this, do you believe in love?
I am not talking about just love between a man and a woman - know what I am referring to is true love between two soul mates? Not everyone can claim to have experienced this magnificent sort of passion. Everyone should have such a wonderful chance, that I was blessed with. Rummage around the depths of your heart; remember when and how you met your own, soul mate. God bless you if you have, never take that for granted, or lose sight of it.
Close your eyes, take a deep breath, try and reflect on what I’m asking. Have you asked yourself this much-be honest with yourself. Have you even known the very first time that you spotted that someone that completely enchanted you that caught your eye? Intriguing you even though this someone is new in your life, even had the good-fortune if it was for the briefest of encounters, maybe you were completely blind-sided by this person - caught off guard by spontaneous encounters, was it while riding on the bus, or perhaps while you were in the coffee shop. How you may have thought this love at first sight does not really matter. The fact remains that you did –that’s all that really counts. Nevertheless, when you do finally spot this new person - knowing full well that they’re the stranger before you find they are predestined to be your soul-mate - a blessed feeling you just couldn’t put into words. A wonderful sensation you have never experienced before. Did you meet this person only after you had resigned to the fact that you were not going to find someone special? Once you did – and found them - in your heart, you knew it to be true, as crazy as it may sound. You find when you spot this stranger, you’re finally interested in, your breathing becomes all flustered, your heart starts racing… You want to shout out to the world - telling anyone that will listen - just how wondrous this person truly is. Even though you know nothing about this stranger. You want to call your parents, and tell them that you met the man, or woman you will marry. The only gamble in this, one-step away from heartbreak - at this delicate juncture to have the cards all fall in the same place is key. That is, does the other person you suddenly feel the same – that they are lifelong soul mate? Do they actually harbor the same strong bond for you? If they do, you both quickly discover if you would do anything to stay together, from the very first glimpse of one another.
It has been said, that at birth all men and women are purposely separated from our one true soul mate - Ying and Yang. That no matter how long it takes, both separated mates spend their lives searching for their other half to become complete - to find the right person that we are predestined to bond with.
In the case of my own particular love story, that would have been a resounding yes. I found my yang, while we were still in our childhood. So because we were such a great match, we became best of friends. Almost if it was true fate - destiny that God willing, brought us together. Every day I am truly thankful for that - I never take it for granted.
I was actually blessed enough to have experience just such an incredibly passionate and warm sensation, Though of course it should be clearly understood at the time, I began this romance at eight years of age. I guess I really had no idea what this sort of love even was. What this young boy was going to end up truly meaning to me. I was not actually sure if at this age, I had even liked boys. In both our cases, I would have to say what we had back then was definitely a close friendship. But thinking back about it now after all this time, I recon he split-second I laid eyes on my beloved Abram, maybe I knew somewhere deep inside of me, that we would one day marry.
Let us see, it was in the early part of the month of June - yes that’s right. In the grand year of 1929. Abram - as well as our families - and I lived in the town of Kutno Poland, in the Jewish section of the town. We lived in a two-story house built in the mid-1800’s, with some modern updates made more recently. Poppa had the house plumbed and wired for electricity whe
n we moved in. Poppa owned a men’s clothing store, mainly men’s fine suits. He was quite successful in business - he worked so hard to put food on the table and give us a good life. They were much different times.
I faithfully committed this wonderful part of my young life, to my memories as if it had just happened. These days it is all I can remember - I’m in the early stage of dementia, so I replay them over in my head like watching a movie - as I stare out the window, watching for signs of spring approaching. So much has changed between now and then. That little girl sometimes seems like she never existed, she was so spunky. Oh and how could I forget all those lovely freckles? Some of the things I ended up experiencing afterward in life were so horrible - it was these beloved early memories that kept me going through the hard times. The memories with my beloved Abram gave me all the strength I ever needed.
Now let me see - the day the two of us met - well recall that it was a quite beautiful sunny day - not a cloud in the sky. It was a perfect, baby blue - the same shade as Abram’s eyes. My heart melted every time I look into them. It was rather hot - unseasonably warm for this part of June, and the house was stifling in the afternoon. Especially up in my room, which was on the second floor - the side that received all the afternoon sun. But in the evening there was always a calm, gentle wind that was sweeping down starting off from out of the North Sea, which was keeping it from getting even hotter than it did. The swirling air was filled with the unsullied fresh smells of all of Momma’s prize winning roses, and carnation, and all the honeysuckles that grew abundantly on the trestles on the house and barn. Every summer since the last time I left the family home for the last time, I’ve searched out these familiar childhood smells - because they reminded me of Momma, and dear Abram, both I lost so very long ago. It is marvelous how a scent can recall the smallest, happiest memories.
Momma grew her flowers in raised beds scattered all through the yard. Oh, she took great pride in them - she tenderly cared for each flowering plant, as if they were her child. I thought it odd back then, how she would talk to them, just like they were people. I thought she was off her rocker. Now I actually understand it was not about the talking to the flowers, as much as it was her stress reliever. The tender treatment she gave her flowers showed in their splendid colors, shapes, and smells. Every day in the summer, she would go out early in the morning, and then cut a whole vase full of flowers so that the inside of the house smelled just like the outdoors. I missed that smell whenever winter rolled through - I think that’s why I love spring so much.
The tall trees that grew around our property were filled with several different varieties of very happy, well fed songbirds chirping and cheeping their wonderful songs, I like to think that they were calling out to their own soul mate - their love songs. I loved listening to them. Momma said it was their way as thanking us, and God. So to this day, when I hear the birds around me, I think of my beloved, dear sweet Momma, and remember her heart of gold.
The day I was to have my very first encounter with my own lost soul mate, came about unexpectedly when a lovely new Jewish family moved in to the farmhouse next door.
It was in the morning when I heard their wagon loaded with all kinds of belongings - clanging metal items together as it was rolling down the road that ran directly in front of our house. I could tell that each time the wagon wheel made contact with a rut in the road in front of the house, as the cacophony grew closer. The anticipation inside grew, wondering if perchance, this is the family I have been waiting for, asking for in my prayers every night. Every day I looked and listened for the right wagon or truck showing up - I prayed for a kid my age, though I had been hoping for a girl.
The clattering did not catch my undivided attention at first - that is until I recognized that they had pulled up to the house right next door to us. I could hear the wagon turn, and a man telling his two horses to pull harder, I knew that they must have turned onto the drive, which was slightly steep. I was familiar with the sounds a wagon made on our street, because we had traffic on the road all day long. And every day I gazed out the window for anyone to pull up to the empty house, it was usually nothing, but not this time. I was so excited, I was jumping up and down, getting up from my still very unmade bed. I had been lazing all morning long. Expecting it to be just another long hot, drawn out, boring day, I was so bored I remember I was actually excited about school starting back up; I let me tell you I hate school. The sad thing was, I just started my summer break.
The house next door had been unoccupied for more than three months now, when the family that had lived there had moved to Warsaw – it’s strange I can no longer remember their names. I had been sad ever sense they had moved away. I did not had anybody to play with since they left. Other than my older sister Marym, and trust me she is not any sort of fun at all. She did not have a fun bone in her entire body; we constantly bickered with one another. Truthfully I generally lost the fights because I am much smaller than her, unless Momma stepped in, but Marym is a “goody too shoes,” - she always threw a fit when Momma got involved in our arguments, and then she ultimately ended up getting her way anyways. Because she’s six years older than me. Marym did not like playing with me; she said that I was such a little baby at times. She was always bragging that she is now a young woman and I was certainly am not.
“Hana, you simply wouldn’t comprehend such complicated matters, I don’t have the time for such frivolous or mundane matters as kid’s games.”
I think it’s because she was starting to develop that she thought she so special – she was always flaunting her blossoming curves at me.
Take note, I was eight when Abram moved in next door to me, and it was then that he everlastingly entered my heart, and my spirit - we became one. I would find out from that moment on, I was incomplete without of him. The way he would look at me his smile made my heart patter, and his manly scent. I can remember that day just as if it just happened; yet it has been seventy-five years. It is hard to believe that little girl even existed if I stare into the mirror, I feel like a young girl, though an old woman stares back at me. Losing Abram made me old.
I have played it out so many times since then. Even after all these years later, I still cry for joy just thinking about it, they were such precious memories. Hardships over the years have made me appreciate the true importance of happiness - the influence it can have on one’s soul. I consider possessing such wonderful memories as the greatest endowment – no better treasure one can possibly possess, as they grow old. It is the greatest blessing God allows us to have, and experience. Funny to think the just after being giving life the greatest of all gifts, the next is love - something you can’t see, or physically even feel, yet it’s what every human that walks this earth yearns to have at one time or another.
When that glorious wagon pulled up to the house next door, I was on cloud nine. I was drawn in like a bug to a bug zapper. Given that, I was bored out of my mind, and I was supposed to be hanging about in my room, to keep out of Momma’s hair. Problem was I could not be caged in like a bird - I had too much energy. Didn’t Momma realize that I was a kid that should be out playing on such a nice day, breathing in the fresh air? Therefore, my curiosity got the best over me, it more often than not does. I did the only I could, which seemed sensible to an almost eight year old mind I snuck outside, through my open bedroom window, and as my sister wasn’t paying attention to me, I got away with it too. Mountaineering my way down from the second story, down the tall wooden trellis directly below my bedroom window - thankfully positioned on the opposite side of the house, away from mother who was down in the kitchen. Then once my feet were firmly planted on the ground, I creatively maneuvered around the corner of my house; crouched down, passed the open windows. This was risky – I was possibly in Momma’s direct line of sight. She had eyes of an eagle; I use to think that she had eyes in the back of her head – and though every child might think that, in Momma’s case it was probably true. She could tell what mischief I w
as planning before I got there.
I was most inquisitive, I was a very curious by nature girl, and all of this sneaking was an attempt to get a more clandestine look at the family – but I was much more inquisitive than I probably should be, it generally ended up getting me in trouble. Momma had broken a few wooden spoons on my bare butt when I was caught, but for some reason that inquisitive streak still persisted.
My heart was racing - would I spy a child - or two, or three in with these new strangers? Would I find a new playmate? I sprinted across our yard, and then climbed up the old oak tree in front of my house. Like a monkey, up the wooden runs nailed directly into the tree’s trunk - oh, I can tell you, I climbed that oak tree a thousand times as a young child; I still have the scares on my knees to prove it.
Up to the tree- house Poppa built for my sister and me; of course, sister never had stopped using it, so I had it all to myself. I redecorated, putting my own touches to it. But today, I paid the tree house no heed – I just had to get an better look.
Shimmying my way all the way up even higher, out onto one of the massive branches, I craned for a better view. I did not normally venture this far up – it was well beyond the safety of the tree house. I guess in all my excitement, I was not thinking. This was always challenging to do in a dress; the girls these days are so fortunate that they can wear shorts and jeans, options we never had. What I would have given to have that option when I was a little girl.
War Torn Love Page 1