Read I Have Lived a Thousand Years for Free Online Page B

hideout.
    “Don’t worry, my dear sister.” Mommy puts her arms about her. “It will be over soon. Soon all this will pass, like a bad dream.”
    Mommy’s words of comfort suddenly, inexplicably, fill my heart with fear.

A M IRACLE
    NAGYMAGYAR, MAY 13, 1944
    “I’m glad they are taking us to labor camps,” Mommy remarks in response to the rumors. “Our food is almost gone. At least we can work for our food. Here they don’t let us get even a loaf of bread!” Mommy, always practical and optimistic, makes us all feel better about the rumors.
    But how will we obtain food in the meantime?
    The ghetto was totally isolated. Ghetto residents were forbidden to leave; people on the outside were forbidden to enter. They were forbidden even to approach the fence.
    What will happen when we run out of food?
    Days pass and we use up the last scrapings. Our flour sack is empty. This morning I kneaded bread from the last batch of flour.
    There is a commotion at the front gate. People run past our room toward the front. Something is going on at the fence. I quickly join them to see what the furor is about.
    There is always something going on. Yesterday a baby was born. The day before someone got a letter from the Budapest ghetto.
    Outside the gate a buxom peasant woman is arguing with the young soldier on guard. She insists on entering the ghetto, but the soldier refuses to allow her to come near the gate. The woman is making a great fuss, angrily scolding the youngguard. I know that soldier. The other day he called out to me and asked my name. I told him my name even though I knew it was not permitted. But he looked kind. And very young. He had soft brown eyes, and blonde fuzz for a mustache. He told me he was from a small town beyond the Danube, and I answered I was from Somorja.
    All at once I catch sight of a girl in part obliterated by the buxom woman still in the midst of her shouting match with the guard.
    “Márta!”
    Márta Kálmán, my schoolmate from Somorja, hears my shout. She is at the fence in a flash.
    “Elli! Ellike!” Her face is flushed with excitement. “Oh, Elli, I can’t believe we found you!”
    She runs and frantically tugs at her mother’s sleeve. “Mother! Mother! Look! It’s Ellike! She’s there. Come, quick!” Unceremoniously she drags the irate woman away from the soldier, toward my direction.
    Now I recognize Mrs. Kálmán. She used to drive Márta in her buggy from their farm to our house. I used to help Márta with German and math.
    When she sees me, Mrs. Kálmán practically charges the fence. She thrusts her arms through the bars and grabs my hand, shaking it forcefully. The young guard catches up with her.
    “You can’t do that. It’s against the rules.”
    All at once the guard catches sight of me.
    “Good morning.”
    “Good morning. These are my friends. May I talk to them for a few minutes?”
    “O.K., but be careful. Just a few minutes.”
    “Oh, Ellike. I’m so happy to see you. We thought they killed you, all of you. And here you are. My God!”
    “Hush, girl,” Mrs. Kálmán warns her daughter. “We brought you some things. Flour, eggs, and a goose. We owe you so much. You know, Márta passed her math, and in German she got a high mark! We would have brought you these things sooner, but we didn’t know where to find you. They wouldn’t tell us anything.”
    The young guard is agitated. The other soldiers stationed farther alongside the fence begin to take notice of the hubbub. A huge crowd has gathered on the inner side of the fence.
    “Please. They must leave now.”
    “Officer, I brought some things for this young lady. She’s my daughter’s best friend. Can I give them to her?”
    The guard casts a hurried, frightened glance at me. My eyes reflect a desperate plea.
    “Fast. Let no one notice.”
    Márta and her mother carry the things from the cart at a run. The live goose and the white bundle containing at least two dozen eggs fit between the bars. A sack