EXCERPTS FROM EAST OF THE JAGGED CROSS
(Little Girl Lost, Ch. 1) Mama! Mama! I cried but no one paid attention. I sat down on the sidewalk and began to cry.
Whats the matter, little girl? I was startled when I looked up into the painted face of a woman wearing a red scarf and large gold earrings.
Mamas lost, I replied.
Oh, now dont you cry, well find her! She reached for me. I saw that her hand was dark, not like my mothers hand. I hesitated.
Still contemplating whether or not to take the womans hand, I was suddenly lifted up and bounced against a large bosom. The sweet odor of the womans face interested me. I leaned closer and sniffed.
She laughed. You like my perfume?
I nodded. Then I noticed that I was on the level of the faces of the skirts and trousers that walked around me. I was intrigued. I could see the tops of the tables that had only bumped my head before. A whole new world opened up before me.
Hey, Victor, look what I got! the painted lady called to a black-mustached man. The black scarf around his head and the large gold earrings interested me. I had never seen a man wearing earrings.
Where did you get that, Fannie? he called back, looking me over.
Found her, replied the painted lady, smiling as she hugged me.
Some deep down suspicion warned and I exclaimed I want my mama!
Oh, mama get herself another baby, you be my baby! She hugged me close
(Kidnapped, Ch. 4) Since we had no family in the city, neighbors were taking me to see my mother in the hospital. It was a long walk. The women holding my hands insisted that we must hurry. Their mood was strange, incomprehensible. Then all conversation ceased. Their grip on my hands tightened and I was being dragged ahead, stumbling, objecting, with no reply to my pleas and only guarded glances and secretive whispers exchanged between them.
All noises of the city had faded and then another sound broke the stillness of the dreary day. It was the sound of an automobile.
The older woman glanced over her shoulder, gasped and whispered something to her companion. They lunged forward, literally dragging me along the path to the hospital as the sound of the motor came closer.
Faster, faster! they cried.
Suddenly two strong arms grabbed me from behind while my feet, still running, kicked the air. The women screamed but the two husky fellows paid no heed to their protests. One pushed the women to the ground, the other calmly hustled me into the limousine, unruffled by my screams and struggles
(Angels of Faith & Charity, Ch. 5) The citizens of Pisek were quite aware of the needy for there was a beggar on every corner of the city. There were no government programs, no relief for emergencies or for long-term disabilities. Beggars were an very day problem and at Christmas time the citizens hearts melted at the thought of the less fortunate.
We children were assigned to collect contributions of clothing, food and anything practical the merchants in town would send to the effort of the feast for the beggars to be held at the private farm and trade school supported by the prominent citizens of the city. My mother was one of the women who offered to do the cooking.
Returning to the school with our loot, a baby carriage full of sweaters, coats, gloves and galoshes donated by the towns merchants, we were assigned the chore of separating the clothing in the cloak room. Then the doorbell sounded announcing that the first guests had arrived.
I was not prepared for the sight that met my eyes.
A man limping and leaning on a cane was followed by a woman holding a tiny baby and leading another that had just begun walking. Their clothing was so shabby and inadequate for the cold evening that I shivered to see the threadbare jacket with its hole at the elbow. The pair displayed no emotion. They came silently, entering without a word. The doorbell jingled again.
They came with dull, sad eyes, worn and ailing bodies, silent, broken humanity without any sign of spirit. My heart was so heavy with compassion, my faith in God was tested
(Voyage to America, Ch. 19) After we shared the coffee and rolls, I fell asleep on mamas lap, an exhausted sleep interrupted by bombings and air raids, similar to those which began in Pisek just before we left.
I woke in the middle of a commotion in the compartment. The Gestapo soldiers returned to find out that the Jewish couple were gone. The soldiers raced noisily up and down the isles of the train, opening and slamming the sliding doors of the compartments, asking questions, yelling at the passengers.
Suddenly, stubbornly, no one understood German. The conductor, bewildered, said They must have left the train. Complete mayhem broke out. The Gestapo bolted out of the train, yelling, whistles blowing, pistols ready to shoot. They would certainly catch them, the nice elderly couple whose crime was being Jewish
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