From Dust and Ashes (21 page)

A jeep drove by with three GIs on board.

“Where you headed?” Peter called.

“Gmunden,” a soldier answered.

“Perfect. May I join you?”

The jeep slowed, and Peter jumped in. He had no idea where Gmunden was or what he’d find when he got there. But he still had a few more days before he was due to report in Germany.

Gmunden it is
, Peter thought as the jeep rolled out of town. They drove down the main street, and he looked the other direction as they passed the large yellow house.

He would leave it behind. Just like he’d left Normandy, France, and the battles at Bastogne. This place too would someday be only a distant memory.

Yet even as he pushed the memories out of his mind, Peter doubted they would stay there. This hurt jabbed a place even war hadn’t touched.

Twenty-Four

JULY 28, 1945

H
elene ambled through the dark streets of St. Georgen with Petar clutched to her chest and Anika’s hand in hers. Her daughter was exhausted, and Helene felt the same.

“Just a few more steps,” Helene coached, spying her father’s house in the distance. “We’re almost there.” Anika’s sluggish steps plodded on.

The house seemed vacant from this distance. And Helene realized it would soon be that way. She’d already said goodbye to one friend that night, and Michaela and the others would soon leave too.

A jeep rumbled up the street. Helene pulled Anika to the side of the road and waited for it to pass. Two soldiers laughed and talked. One leaned out with a wave and a whistle. To Helene’s dismay, Anika waved back.

Just as they passed, Helene noticed a hunched figure in the backseat, facing the opposite direction.

“Peter?” she whispered as the moonlight caught his reddish-blond hair. She felt a need to call to him, to invite him over for coffee. They could talk about the coming changes and exchange a formal farewell.

But the jeep passed by too quickly. “Goodbye, Peter,” she murmured.

He didn’t even glance at the yellow house.

Helene’s heart went out to him, riding away alone, running from the pain. “Godspeed,” she called softly into the night. “Come back soon.”

Then she remembered. The Russians would be taking over shortly. And when that happened there would be no returning.

The jeep turned a corner and disappeared from sight. Helene continued homeward.

What did he do to deserve this heartache?
she wanted to cry to the heavens. She would be alone soon, she knew. She would lose her friends, lose Peter. But she deserved this punishment. She deserved this for every time she ignored the horror.

But Peter? He’d only helped. Only provided.

It doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense
. Helene moved through the front gate and up the steps.

Within minutes, her children were tucked into bed. Helene kicked off her shoes. She collapsed onto her bed, too tired to undress.

She decided to pray for Peter. She’d been finding much comfort in prayer lately. And as she considered her words to God, Michaela’s prayers came to mind. Even now she could hear their gentle cadence in her mind. The prayers were like a soothing balm. Yet she still didn’t understand how Michaela could have such faith. She’d barely escaped a death camp. She’d turned her back on a relationship with a wonderful man in order to return to the place of her betrayal. And yet, she was not bitter.

It’s hard to make sense of it all
, Helene thought, fighting sleep.
Unless … unless the balance of good and evil doesn’t depend on what we’ve done or what happens to us. Perhaps it really does depend on the life and death of Jesus
.

Could that be part of the answer?

Helene thought of her mother, and of the story Michaela had told her just a few nights before.

When I felt near suffocation in that cattle car, I knew this was not natural
, Michaela had said.
“Evil is wrong. A person being slain like an animal is horrible. But then I thought of Christ’s life. His service. His love. The way He laid down His life for His friends. My heart tells me that’s how life was meant to be lived.”

The words replayed in Helene’s mind, and they made more sense each time she considered them.

That’s the reason I felt so guilty
, Helene realized as she rolled over onto her side.
If a God of love is the truth, He’s the reason hurting others feels wrong, no matter what the popular belief. And why helping others, although difficult at the moment, feels so right in the end
.

Helene flipped over onto her back. She felt weary, but good. Difficult concepts—truth, faith, hope—were beginning to make sense. She pulled the blanket over her body, still dressed in wedding attire.

More than anything, she realized, she wanted what her heart cried was natural. She longed for what her soul told her was right. She needed what she’d been missing all these years.

If Christ is truth, then I either have to accept Him or reject Him
. If she had learned one thing during the war, it was that there was no middle ground.

So before Helene surrendered to sleep that night, she embraced the One who was her hope after so many years of hopelessness. She prayed to Michaela’s Savior and made Him her own. And in doing so, she found the gate to freedom. As a prisoner once chained by sin, the doors were now opened through a new life in Christ.

For the first time in years, Helene drifted off to sleep in sweet, sweet peace.

Helene woke with morning’s first rays. Her eyelids felt heavy, but her heart was light.

Petar had awakened numerous times to nurse. Instead of becoming frustrated, Helene had kissed his soft baby head and prayed the prayers she had been storing deep inside for so many years.

Sometime during the night, her father and Michaela, Marek and Kasia had returned from the wedding. Michaela had tried to muffle her prayers, but in the quiet of the night Helene could not mistake them. Days before she had wondered why Michaela had made the decision she had. Now she understood a little better. Michaela’s greatest joy was to please the Lord. Helene had sensed that joy herself last night, and she still did now.

As she sat up, the scent of lilacs drifting in through the window reminded her of an old Austrian tale. As she thought about it, she realized it made a perfect illustration of God’s love.

Helene stretched her arms, then flipped the covers back from the bed. Her bare feet touched the cold wooden floor. As much as she wanted to tell Michaela about her decision, there was one person she wanted to share it with even more.

She pulled stationery and a fountain pen from the bottom drawer of her dresser. The image of Friedrich’s smiling face flashed before her as she spotted the photos that lay there. It was too much to try to rationalize his part in the evil schemes. Today she must concentrate on the good.

Sitting in the chair, she used a book for a table and began to write.

July 29, 1945

Dear Peter
,

Guten Morgen, my friend. I cannot help but wonder where you are waking up this morning. Only a few hours have passed since you left our town, but so much has happened that I can’t wait to share. For without your help I would not be experiencing the joy I feel now
.

Oh, dear Peter, where do I begin? First, I will go back a bit and share a story that is popular with all young Austrian girls. It is a story about true love. You see, up in the highest peaks of the Austrian Alps a simple flower grows. It is small and white, but it’s the spirit of the flower that matters even more than its beauty. In order to grow, the edelweiss must survive the harshest conditions and bloom in the most challenging weather
.

When I was young, every year there would be reports of young men who scaled the Alps and died in their attempt to pick a bunch of edelweiss for their true loves. It was a sign of ultimate devotion. As silly as it was, I would always dream of a man being so in love with me that he would risk his life to bring me a flower. Imagine that! But for many years that was my fantasy
.

Then the war came, and romantic thoughts disappeared. Until you came. That is when I first realized that perhaps good does still exist in this world. You risked your life. You went out of your way to save lives, and you helped me, your enemy. Why, if it wasn’t for you bringing Michaela, I would never know the love I now have
.

By your example, and Michaela’s prayers, I have finally discovered the truth behind the edelweiss. I was no foolish girl. Each of us wants to be loved like that. Although I’ve never had a man hand me such flowers, I feel that same type of love at this moment
.

Michaela often speaks of a God who loves us so much He gave His life for ours. This morning I discovered this truth: Like a lover wanting the best for his true love, God not only sought a way to prove His love, but He did so knowing full well He would die on that mountain. Last night, I finally realized He died for me
.

I have accepted Christ, Peter. Do you know what that means? Like America, Austria has been known as a Christian country. But I’ve lived many years not knowing what that could mean to me personally
.

Now I do
.

I hadn’t meant to write three pages, but I had to tell you first. I wanted to tell you about the freedom in my soul. Thank you. Thank you for bringing Michaela here. And thank you for showing me that heroes still exist
.

My little Petar is waking. I will write again. I hope to hear from you soon
.

With friendship in my heart,
Helene

Helene put down the pen and let out a sigh. She folded the letter in thirds and sealed it in an envelope before she could change her mind.

“Shh, little one.” She lifted Petar from his cradle. She struggled to put on her robe with one hand and balance Petar with the other, already missing Lelia’s helpful pair of hands.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” she cooed to the baby. “But I had a very important letter to write.”

Anika awoke and blew a kiss to Helene. Helene started to return the gesture when a pounding on the bedroom door startled her. Before she could respond, the door flew open. Marek stood there, his face drained of color.

Helene pulled her robe tighter around her chin.

Marek’s panicked expression quickly transformed to one of embarrassment. He took a step back. “So sorry.”

“It’s all right. What’s going on?”

“I apologize for the intrusion,” he said in broken German, “but I need Michaela. We must leave at once. The Russians—”

“They’re here?”

“Tak, yes,” Marek said. “They closed down borders sooner than expected. The Americans have moved out.”

Helene thought back to Friedrich’s rantings about the Russians.
“They are animals,”
he had said with a vile curse.
“Hardly men.”

“Does my father know?” Helene asked.

“Oh, yes. He is meeting with the town council right now.”

Helene stared out the window. A robin bounced from branch to branch on the large tree outside, seemingly without a care in the world.

She turned back to Marek. “I’ll start packing for Michaela. She’s been enjoying walks by the river lately. Perhaps that’s where she is now.”

“I’ll go check.” Marek spun on his heels.

The baby now asleep on her shoulder, Helene sank onto the bed. Anika climbed onto her lap.

“Are bad men coming?” Anika asked.

Helene didn’t know how to respond. “They are the Allies, here to protect us,” she said, wishing she believed her own words.

“Will Michaela leave?” Anika leaned her head on Helene’s shoulder. “I no want her to go.”

“She’s going back to her home. It will be good for her. Everyone needs a home.”

“But I be sad.”

“So will I.” She stroked Anika’s cheek. “We must be brave.”

Anika nodded, but her shoulders sagged.

Helene pulled Anika closer. “We will see her again. Someday, when the world settles, we will visit her. Would you like that?”

Anika smiled weakly.

“Good. Come, help me pack for her.”

Rising slowly, Helene placed the baby into his cradle.
Be brave
, she told herself. She remembered Peter’s quiet acceptance, and it gave her strength.

Helene drifted to Michaela’s bedroom. Kasia sat on the bed with her face in her hands.

“I just thought of something,” Kasia said in broken German. “I am going home. But it will not be the same. Nothing will ever be the same. How will I do it?”

Helene wrapped her arm around the girl’s slender waist. “God will help you. And Michaela will too. Her faith is strong.”

Trucks rumbled outside, making the back of Helene’s neck tingle. But she had confidence in her words.

Faith would make the difference. For Michaela. For her. For them all.