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It’s not much, but it’s something.

A small defiance.

A small glimmer of beauty.

A reason to keep breathing.

De Gaulle moves fast and decisively, establishing a Free French Government. Occupation has given French citizens a sense of unity against the enemy. He draws together Gaullists, nationalists, and communists into the new government.

The joy of liberation brings with it a wave of retribution. A wild purge, a reckoning like no other. Collaborators are beaten, publicly humiliated, and executed without trial. However, none of this, the liberation, the new government, the retribution against the Militia, brings immediate practical relief for the people of Paris. Food shortages continue; rations are reduced further; the black market flourishes.

The mood on the streets of Paris becomes a complicated mix of euphoria and grief. Tina and Josie feel genuine joy but are also exhausted from not knowing where Andrée is or if she will ever come home. They are constantly hungry and of course traumatized. The war in Europe continues but the question of who had done what during the occupation hangs over every neighborhood, every street, every shop.

“Mlle Évrard called me in this morning. She’s worried about you, Josie. You’re not showing your normal interest and enthusiasm in your studies. Is something wrong?” Tina asks.

Josie continues pushing her tiny portion food around her plate in silence.

“Josie, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

“No one can help me,” Josie whispers.

“That’s not true. You have wonderful teachers. They believe in you as I do.”

“I know.”

“Are you struggling with your lessons? Do you want extra help? You just must tell me, ma petite.”

“I know. I know. My teachers can give me all the lessons and I can learn them, except for the lessons I want most desperately.”

Tina drops her head into her hands, fighting her tears.

“Oh, Grand-Mère, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Josie rushes to Tina, dropping to her knees, wrapping her arms around her. For what seems an eternity, the old woman and the young girl comfort each other in the only way they can. Holding each other and whispering words of love and support.

“It’s not good for you to be on your knees, Josie. Sit down and let’s talk.”

Josie drags her chair closer to Tina.

“Would you like me to find somebody who can give you piano lessons? To help you advance?”

“No. No. That’s not what I want at all.”

“You want your Tata Andrée.”

“Yes. Only her.”

“Then, Josie, you will need to be patient a little longer. The war is not over, but it will be. Andrée will come home when it’s over.”

“I’m sorry. I promise I will keep practicing so that when she does come home, she will see me, Joséphine, the pianist, and she will teach me more.”

“That’s the spirit. Can I ask you to have the same spirit at school?”

“I will. I’ll try. I do want to learn. I haven’t told anyone yet, but I think I would like to be a teacher one day. Do you think I can?”

“My dear Josie, you can be anything you want to be.”

The weeks pass. November arrives cold and gray. Josie throws herself into her schoolwork with renewed determination. Mlle Évrard notices the change and reports back to Tina. “Whatever you said to her worked. She’s herself again.”