Sister Ursula appeared, talking to the children in German. One by one, they let Ethel go and stepped back to let her pass, but Anke had begun to wail. Three other children picked up the cry. “Mum. Mum. Mummy.”
Then all the children at the gate shouted, “Mummy. My mummy.” Over and over. Ethel could barely turn away. She searched Sister Ursula’s face for help.
“They will be fine,” Sister Ursula said to Ethel while grabbing the little children by the arms and pulling them back inside. “But since you’ve made such an impression on them, we do hope you will come again.”
“Tomorrow?” Ethel croaked.
“We will see you then.” Sister Ursula held her gaze with those startling blue eyes and then closed and locked the gate behind her.
As Ethel turned onto the street, she could still hear them singing to her: “Mum. Mum. Mummy.”
Ethel rolled down her nylons and then changed into a flowered housedress before rummaging around in the kitchen. It had been nearly aweek since she’d done the grocery shopping, so her dinner options were limited. She prepared a simple meal of toast with sardines, boiled eggs, and a cucumber and tomato salad. Just as she was draining the eggs from the water, she heard Bert enter the apartment.
“Ethel, that you, darling?” he called, like he did every day, which always made her chuckle, because who else would be banging around in their kitchen.
“Yes, it’s me.” Ethel removed her waist apron and touched her hair, then made her way into the living room. Bert stood tall with big shoulders and a kind smile.
“This is the best part of my day,” he murmured as he closed the distance between them, folding her into the safety of his arms. Bert smelled hardy, and as Ethel held him around the waist, she gazed up into his eyes.
“Supper’s ready. Hope you aren’t too hungry, because it’s not much.”
“I’m absolutely famished, woman. So you better feed me something.” He kissed her cheek.
“Well, come on, then.” She patted his chest.
Bert removed his garrison cap and service coat. Once he sat down at the table in the kitchen, he loosened his necktie.
Ethel brought over their plates.
“Smells good,” he said.
“Well, I promise to do the food shopping as soon as I can.”
Bert reached for her hand and then led them in grace. He took a bite of his toast piled high with sardines and asked after her day.
Ethel could feel her breathing speed up as she recounted her time at the orphanage. “They were all so precious. You should have seen them.” She put down her fork as her eyes glazed over. “Such beautiful children.”
He chewed. “How many kids were there?”
“Too many to count. Something has got to be done, Bert. They look like us. All shades of beige and brown. They need an advocate.”
“You said the Catholic nuns run the place, right?”
“Yes, and they are doing what they can. Don’t get me wrong, but there is only so much they can do. It’s terrible to see so many motherless children. Especially American children. It’s not right.”
“I’m sure there are programs…”
“There’s nothing. Sister Ursula told me that it’s hard for brown babies. No one wants them. All because of the color of their skin. That feels way too familiar, considering how far we are from the same madness at home.”
Bert spooned another egg onto his plate and doused it with salt.
“Those kids, they were all so smart and lovable. We played, even though most of them didn’t speak a lick of English.”
Ethel stopped talking because she noticed that Bert was staring at her. “Albert Gathers, why on earth are you studying me like you don’t have the sense God gave a chicken?”
“This is the most alive I’ve seen you look in a long time.”
Ethel relaxed. “It was such a good feeling to be useful. Those kids needed me today, and I needed them just as much.”
