sat back on her bed and smiled proudly.
If only Therese could see me now,
she thought.
“I’m done too,” said Sarah, putting her book aside. “I want to take you to choir practice, but first we need to do some chores. ‘Work before play,’ Shatta always says. Our job is to peel potatoes. And,” Sarah whispered, “if we’re lucky, Cook will give us a treat. Let’s go!”
The cook was a round woman, almost as wide as she was short. When Sarah and Edith entered the kitchen, she was sweating over a big pot on the stove. She had to stand on tiptoe to stir the soup. Her face was red, and her voice made a soft wheezing sound as she quietly chanted a hymn.
“Sarah, ma petite, my sweet one,” the cook cried. “You’re my favorite young boarder and my best helper.”
Sarah grinned and whispered to Edith, “She says that to all of us.” Then Sarah turned back to the cook. “This is Edith,” Sarah said. “She’s new here.”
“Aren’t you a dear!” the cook exclaimed, wrapping Edith in a hug that nearly smothered her. “Look at those beautiful big eyes — just like my youngest. I’ve got six at home — every one a gift from the Lord.” She crossed herself and muttered a quick blessing.
Edith stifled a giggle. It had been such a long time since anyone had thought her pretty. The jolly woman probably found a compliment for all the children, but that didn’t matter — Edith liked her immediately.
“I’d take you all home if I could,” the cook continued. “But my poor husband! It’s hard enough for him to feed our six. How would he feed a hundred?” The cook’s laugh was so jolly that her whole body jiggled, and Edith and Sarah had to laugh with her.
“Take an apron, girls, and a paring knife each,” the cook said, wiping the tears from her eyes.
In no time, there was a huge pile of potato peelings in the sink. Working together had made the chore fun. As Edith and Sarah were about to leave, the cook smiled at them. “Did you think I had forgotten?” she asked. “A chocolate truffle for each of you.” The girls thanked the cook and ran out of the kitchen to savor their treats.
“Hello, Sarah,” someone called. Sarah and Edith turned to face an older boy.
“Hi, Eric. Edith, you remember Eric. You met him yesterday.”
Edith smiled. She had met so many new people that she could barely tell one from the other. Vaguely she recalled meeting this young boy in the hallway on the day she had arrived. Eric was about sixteen, serious-looking, with wild unruly hair and the darkest eyes Edith had ever seen. He stared at her intently until she had to look away.
“Eric knows more than anyone I’ve ever met. And he can do almost everything, too.” Sarah giggled. “He’s a photographer, a bookbinder, and works in the woodworking shop.” Sarah ticked off Eric’s accomplishments on her fingers, one by one.
Eric shrugged. “A bit of this and a bit of that. It all comes in handy.”
“Do you need some help?” asked Sarah.
Eric was loaded down with a large tent folded up and slung across his back. Several cooking pots dangled from his belt. Sarah and Edith grabbed the pots, and all three brought the equipment into the dining room, where children were rolling sleeping bags and folding tents. Shatta, at the far end of the dining hall, looked up briefly and waved, before shouting, “Group leaders, check all the tents very carefully! Make sure there are no holes. Have your teams pile them up over here once you’ve inspected them.”
Eric Goldfarb
“Are kids going camping?” asked Edith.
Eric chuckled. “We’re ready to go at a moment’s notice. That’s one of our mottoes here.”
Edith was puzzled. “Go where? And why quickly?”
“You’re new,” Eric replied, “so you haven’t been part of a raid. But you will, and then you’ll understand.” He unfolded his tent and bent to inspect it.
Sarah looked at Edith reassuringly. “We really are safe here. But the Nazis come