Moge Gott mit dir sein.Where had she heard that phrase before?
CHAPTER 16Mannheim, Germany, July 1951
ETHEL
There was a seven-year age difference between Anke and Franz, and each day Ethel searched for activities that would nurture a bond between them while Bert was away at work. Every morning after the breakfast dishes were clear, she taught them basic words in English, then, while Franz drew pictures, she got down on the floor and played blocks with Anke, using the wooden pieces to teach her to count. When Anke napped, Ethel sat with Franz while he drew and sketched.
During their first three weeks as a family, Ethel experienced every emotion from proud to profound joy, anxiety to crippling fear. Her biggest worry was that her love was not enough to fill the gaps of deep-seated loss that resided in her children. Anke was young enough that memories wouldn’t plague her, but Franz, at ten years old, had been through so much. When Ethel had stopped by the orphanage to pick up the paperwork, Sister Ursula had explained that Franz’s mother had fallen so ill with tuberculosis that she couldn’t care for him and he was found begging for food in the American bars.
He was pensive most days, and Ethel fretted over what was goingon inside his head, what he had seen on the streets, and how much losing his birth mother had affected him. But when Bert walked through the door, a light turned on inside Franz, and Ethel was happy to see that the boy had taken to at least one of them.
Three weeks passed before Ethel felt they had found their rhythm as a family, and she decided to surprise the children with a long-overdue visit to see Sister Ursula and their friends at the orphanage.
When they walked through the gates, Franz took off running, and Anke was scooped up by one of the older girls and carried to a circle of children sitting under the tree. Sister Ursula and Ethel walked to the office; it had a window that overlooked the courtyard. There was a tray with a pitcher of hot water, and Sister Ursula offered tea. “How are they adjusting?”
“Well enough,” Ethel said, and then shared her concerns about Franz. “He’s a different kid once Bert returns home.”
“Franz is used to being in a pack of boys.” Sister Ursula adjusted her glasses. “Once school starts and he makes new friends, he will be fine.”
As they sipped their tea, Sister Ursula told Ethel about three new children who had been dropped off since she had visited last. “We are currently up to twenty-nine. We have enough space for them, but we could use more shoes as we prepare for school to start in the fall.”
“I can ask around. Maybe I can organize a shoe drive on post.”
They sat and talked until the bell rang for lunch. “We’d better go.”
“Let the children eat with their friends first.” Sister Ursula squeezed her hand, and Ethel obliged.
When the meal was over, Ethel called to Anke, but she could not find Franz. She looked all over the courtyard, and then a boy in cutoff shorts pointed to a small building that was used for storage.
“Franz,” she called while pushing the wooden door open.
“Hallo,” he said, down on his knees. He was pitching marbles with a boy who looked to be the same age.
“It’s time to go.” She pointed at the door.
Up on his feet, he took his friend’s hand and put it in Ethel’s. “Come home too?” His big brown eyes pleaded.
Then it all became clear. Franz had been drawing boys playing in the dirt in his sketches. Could this be the person Franz had been missing?
“Wie heißen sie?”She asked the boy’s name.
“Ich heißeHeinz.”Franz’s eyes sparkled. “Come too?” he said again. “Please?”
Anke and Franz had already filled their home and her days, but it was apparent how special Heinz was to Franz. The boys threw their arms around each other’s necks, and Ethel couldn’t bear to wipe this rare smile from Franz’s face. She knew she should talk to Bert about it first, but he was a man’s man and would not object to having two sons. Rescuing two boys.
“Yes, okay.” She nodded, and the boys cheered.
As they moved through the courtyard past the tree, Ethel was looking for Sister Ursula when Heinz clasped the hand of a young girl with a long braid.
“Meine Schwester,”he said, and held her hand toward Ethel. The girl he referred to as Monika was a bit older than Anke, with pudgy cheeks. Ethel looked from Heinz to the girl, and right away she knew there was no way she would split up siblings. With an encouraging nod from Sister Ursula, Ethel’s household went from a family of four to a family of six.
That evening when Bert came home to find four children around their kitchen table, with nowhere for him to sit, he didn’t flinch.
“I guess we’ll need more chairs.” He kissed Ethel on the cheek.
“And a bunk bed,” she added with a sigh of relief.
The boys slept in the small alcove in the living room; Ethel had draped a sheet to give them some privacy. Since she wasn’t comfortable leaving them in the apartment alone, she asked Julia to come byand keep an eye on them while she ran to the commissary at Benjamin Franklin Village to do the grocery shopping.
