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round eyes. Gaston had always been so special — spoiled and doted on. From the day he was born, Edith was happy to have a little brother — someone else to play with and even boss around at times. But she had to admit that she was also a little jealous. After all,
she
had been her Papa’s little girl and the baby of the family. Now she was replaced with this beautiful blond boy. And he commanded everyone’s attention. Gaston was always busy. He was energetic and full of life. Mutti had to watch him every second or he might jump off a table, wander away, or get into some kind of trouble. It was hard to imagine that that same lively child was this sad little boy who sat in front of Edith now.
    Gaston stared at his sister. It was as if someone had turned the light out in his once bright eyes. Edith reached out to brush a curl off of his forehead. “Are you all right?” she asked. Gaston hesitated, and then nodded slightly. “Is there anything you want?” she tried again.
    He looked deeply into her eyes. “I want Mutti.” The room filled with the sound of his painful sobbing.
    Memories of Mutti had been drifting in and out of Edith’s mind like the soft waves she saw on the river from her dormitory window. Where
was
Mutti, Edith wondered. Was she safe? Did she have enough to eat? A bed to sleep in? Was she afraid?
    Edith sighed and reached out to hug Gaston. “I miss her too, Gaston — and Papa and Therese,” she said.
    The two children talked softly as the day was ending, but soon it was time for Edith to leave.

    “When will you come back, Edith?”
    “Tomorrow,” she promised. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”
    “You won’t,” Gaston cried angrily. “You’re just like Mutti and Papa. You’re going to leave and you won’t come back.”
    “Gaston, listen to me, I’m not leaving you. Look out your window and you can see my room. I’ll be back tomorrow.” With that, Edith turned and left his room.
    Poor Gaston
, thought Edith. His whole life had been filled with uncertainty and change. Gaston did not know what it was like to play in a playground, to slurp ice cream in a café, or to watch Papa playing soccer while the crowd cheered. But maybe it was better not to know what you were missing.
    When Edith walked out of Gaston’s house, it was overcast and rainy, as if the sky was weeping for her. Here in Moissac were kind people who looked after her and fed her and made sure her clothes were clean and her homework was done. Shatta and Bouli treated all the children as if they were their own. But Edith still felt lonely. Shatta and Bouli were not her parents. The other children were not her brothers and sisters. They were family only because of their common despair.

    As Edith approached her house, the sound of singing interrupted her sad thoughts. “What’s going on?” she asked, as Germaine rushed by carrying pots and candlesticks.
    “It’s Shabbat,” her counselor replied. “The sun is about to set, and we’re preparing the house for the Sabbath.”

    Edith found Sarah brushing her long, beautiful hair in the dormitory. “Friday night is wonderful here,” Sarah said. “We try to dress up. The cook makes special food, and a rabbi even comes to lead the service. We sing songs, and it’s all so beautiful.”
    Edith shook her head in disbelief. In Vienna, her family had celebrated the Sabbath. She had attended synagogue with her father and had loved to listen to the hymns and prayers. But then the family had stopped practicing their religion in order not to draw attention. Now it seemed the children in Moissac could be Jewish and not afraid. It was so confusing! One minute she was fearful and despairing; the next she felt snug in a protective cocoon.
    “Come,” cried Sarah, as she tied her hair back with a bright red ribbon. “We’ll pick some flowers for the tables.”
    The field behind the house was full of early spring flowers. The fragrance of wild anemones — purple, red, and blue —