“Honey, I will help. I’m sure we can get a few of the ladies from the Negro Wives club to pitch in as well. They’d be chomping at the bit to assist you, sweetie.”
“I’ll have to talk it over with Bert. I’ve worked so hard to build a stable environment with structure. I don’t want the kids to feel as if I’ve abandoned them.”
“How long would you be gone?”
“There is a flight returning to Frankfurt the very next day. A night or two.”
“They will be fine. Probably won’t even notice that you are gone.” Julia clapped her hands together. “As my mother always said, it’s done.”
Deep down, Ethel knew that Julia was right. She had arranged for her first group of children to join loving parents in America. Everything else would fall into place. She just had to continue to put her faith in God.
The next day, Ethel walked the three older children to the schoolhouse. Once she’d dropped Anke at her half-day preschool, she headed to St. Hildegard’s.
It had been two weeks since she had visited, and she was eager to share the news of Scandinavian Airlines’s contribution with Sister Ursula. As Ethel turned the corner and moved toward the orphanage, she smelled burnt rubber, charred wood, and smoke. Then she saw the charcoaled roof on one side of the building had caved in.
“Oh, my heavens.” She put her hand in her pocket and squeezed her rosary beads as she hastened her pace.
The gate to St. Hildegard’s was unlocked, and she stepped over burnt planks, broken tables and spindles from chairs, chunks of broken dishes, and pieces of gassy debris.
“Hello,” she called out. It was eerily quiet.
Then a wrinkled nun who did not speak English appeared with a baby strapped to her back. She motioned with her pointer finger for Ethel to follow her through the courtyard. Scorched cushions from chairs and pieces of drapes were tossed about, and the smell was sickly.
The nun ushered Ethel through the front door, past the office where she met Sister Ursula for tea. They continued down a long hallway and up a steep flight of stairs. The old nun knocked twice on the wooden door and then pushed it open. Inside, Ethel found a twin bed and a rocking chair, a chest of drawers, and a single cross hanging from the bare eggshell walls.
Sister Ursula was sitting in the chair. Her gray frizzy hair stopped at her ears. She was dressed in a thin pajama set with a knit blanket over her lap. It was the first time Ethel had seen her out of her habit, and she looked as if she had aged ten years in two weeks.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Are you all right? What happened?” Ethel covered Sister Ursula’s hands with her own. They were cold and veiny.
Sister Ursula pressed her lips together. “Th—there was a fire,” she stammered.
“Are the children all right? Anyone hurt? Why didn’t you send for me?”
The old nun took her leave, and Sister Ursula gestured for Ethel to take a seat on the edge of her bed. “It started in the kitchen and spread quickly. Most of the electrical and plumbing in this place have not been updated since the First World War.” She cleared her throat.“Sister Proba was serving breakfast at the time. She is in the hospital. Too much smoke in her lungs and a few burns on her hands, shins, and ankles. Her habit caught fire as she tried to usher the children out.”
Ethel made the sign of the cross. “Will she be all right?”
“It’s in the Lord’s hands.” Sister Ursula took hold of the gold cross hanging from a black cord around her neck. But the look on her face was grave.
“The children?”
“Two with burns, but they have been bandaged, and besides being frightened, they will live. They have all been moved into temporary housing not far from here.”
“What can I do?”
Sister Ursula shook her head. “Do you know, at one point we could house up to one hundred and twenty children here. It was tight and chaotic, but with the kitchen out, we will be unable to manage for a while.”
“How many children reside here now? How many are in need of temporary homes?”
“We had twenty-six kids living here at the time of the fire. I’ve found shelter for ten locally, and ten are going to a children’s orphanage in Stuttgart. That leaves six needing homes, and I don’t want to send them to theWisenheim. It is overcrowded. I know you’ve been working tirelessly, dear, but can you possibly place more children?”
Then Ethel remembered the nature of her visit. “I came with good news from Scandinavian Airlines. They’ve agreed to transport four children to New York City.”
Sister Ursula smiled. “Excellent work, Ethel. Can you give them another push? See if they will agree to transport two or three additional children. You have several American families waiting to adopt, yes?”
Ethel had just received an inquiry from a family in Maryland.If she could get the legal forms through quickly, she could make an adoption happen. “I do.”
“The frightened mother that you sent—Durchdenwald, I think is her last name. She’s worried about her child and has begged me for an American adoption.”
