I decided to do a follow up about Eva. I'll probably go back and do more, thanks to everyone who voted. And to those who did not vote, I like you anyway for listening to my ramblings.
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Her mother still wrote letters. Even when they took Eva's father on the truck, she still wrote to her daughter, every month. For this small gesture, Eva was endlessly grateful, and she hung up every one on her wall. Soon, they began to come from Warsaw, and then they stopped coming.
Eva determinedly checked the mailbox, as she did every day. There was an finally a worn envelope, addressed to Eva Levine. She eagerly unfolded it, her hands shaking- and a gust of wind deposited the precious news in a tree.
There was nothing else to do- she climbed precariously, twigs snagging her jumper. Eva snatched the letter, then looked down.
Oh dear.
She swayed horribly and gripped the tree still more firmly. Mrs. Ferdinand opened the back door, holding a flower pot. She squinted into the sunlight, and saw Eva.
"How are you in the tree?"
"More importantly, how can I get down?"
The woman laughed, and began to climb deftly. When she reached her, she sat on a bough next to her.
"A letter from your mother?"
"Yes," Eva suddenly felt irrationally annoyed. This woman could never, ever replace her mother.
"She is still in the- I don't know the word."
"The ghetto," Eva said rather harshly, "She is in the ghetto. Maybe they will put her on a truck, or maybe they will just shoot her."
"I am not wanting..." Mrs. Ferdinand said. "I am not wanting to make you sad. I just wonder. And I do not think they will shoot people."
Eva laughed savagely. "I didn't think a lot of things would happen."
"Eva, I am wanting to help you. You must tell me if you want to talk." Eva could see the pity in the woman's eyes. Don't look at me like that. My parents are alive. I shouldn't even be here. Don't look at me like that!
"Thank you for climbing up here. I think I can get down by myself."
"Yes. The doctor is here for your science lessons."
"I'll meet her when I've finished my letter."
"Goodbye then." She descended and walked back to the house.
Dearest Eva, it's wonderful to be able to write to you. Everything is fine here. The little boys in our apartment had their birthday yesterday, which was nice. How are your friends? I love hearing about Maureen, the one who wants to be an actress. Everyone was so happy when we heard she got the role of Scarlett! Based on the photograph, I think she's a lot prettier than Vivien Leigh. Has Laura had the piano recital yet? Your letter was so funny. I read it out loud, and everyone laughed about how she fretted needlessly when you said she played so well. Poor thing! I am so glad you are making friends. You know, I am very proud of you, making new friends and learning a new language. And the creatures! Oh, I admit I would be very scared in Scotland. That geneticist lady, Doctor Barlow, must know so many fascinating things. Why animals are the way they are, and how to change them, is such monumental knowledge, maybe too much so. But maybe your old mother is just crazy. I'm - - - - with some other ladies, but the - man - - - where we're going. He gave us these postcards. You might not hear from me for - -, but you shouldn't worry. I think we're going to some kind of - that they call -. The women with me are all frail and sick, so maybe we'll be doing the lighter work. You must promise me that you won't worry about me. I love you with all my heart, Eva, I love you more than you can possibly imagine. You are smart, beautiful, funny, wise, talented, selfless, and caring. I want you to always know that. I do not think I am facing -, but if I am, I shall go to my God with a smile on my face and eternal love in my heart. For they have not won, as long as one Jew is unbroken, and they shall never break you and me. I have utter faith that you will never be broken. You must give my thanks to the Ferdinands, and tell your friends that I should like to meet them some day. Remember, you musn't worry about me. Promise.
All of my love,
Sophie Hannah Levine
Eva guessed where her mother was going. Bits and pieces had been censored, but it was clear enough. Mama was going to die.
She cried until she fell asleep, and she cried when she woke up on the ground with a broken arm. However, Eva was still unbroken in spirit, and the pain of that, the pain of love, the pain of a promise, and the pain of living were worse than any fracture.
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This chapter is dedicated to those lost in the Shoah, and the orphans of the Kindertransport.