The Medallion by Cathy Gohlke

Author:Cathy Gohlke
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION / Christian / Historical, FICTION / Historical / World War II
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Published: 2019-04-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

THE NEXT AKTION CAME TO Vilna in mid-April—a week before Passover. The Kovno powers that be refused, at the last minute, to take the influx of Jews from Vilna. A few hid within the ghetto. More young people, the strong ones, escaped into the forest to join the partisans. But most, having no more will to fight and no more food to live, were led to the train. This time the Gestapo made no pretense of resettlement for those loaded into railroad cars. A rail worker revealed that the train had been given only enough oil to go as far as the Ponary Forest.

Men and women barely met the eyes of those beside them.

Rosa’s mother-in-law struggled to her feet and allowed her daughters to help her down the apartment steps. Arm in arm, they walked to the train, a trembling wall of support for one another. Rosa wanted to urge her nieces to run to the forest, to follow the older teens, but the girls were too young and their mothers huddled them close.

Perhaps it is best. At least we will all die together. Who knows what awaits young girls in the forest? It didn’t bear thinking about.

Rosa pulled the little boy she’d rescued to her chest. He lacked the strength to walk and she needed to feel his heart next to her own. He’d not spoken a word since she’d pulled him from the guard’s arms a few weeks ago. She didn’t know his name—his given name or his family’s name. What did it matter now?

There’d been moments over the last weeks when she’d called him Ania. It was not that she meant to replace her daughter, and not that she meant to recast the very real child before her. It was simply a slip into memory, a hope, a prayer that her daughter was loved and held as she loved and held this small child. Survive this horror, my daughter. Grow strong and well. Know who you are and that you were loved more than my life, more than your papa’s life. Please, Adonai, care for her. Give her family—a mother and father. Somehow, someday, let her know I loved her. Let her know she is a child of Israel—but only when it’s safe . . . if it is ever safe.

Rosa pulled herself and the child onto the train and pushed toward the wall, hoping to steady herself and the boy before the crush of people knocked her off balance. She’d heard of the Ponary Forest but never been there. Itzhak had spoken of his years, as a child and teen, of camping and hiking amid the towering evergreens, of the beauty of the place. He’d said he knew the trails like the palm of his hand, that it was the place in all the world where he’d felt most clean, most sure of himself and his future.

We never expected our future to end there, my love. I’m glad it’s a beautiful place. When I close my eyes for the last time, I will see your face.

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