Hiding Edith (5 page)

“Come, Edith, Gaston,” Shatta said. “It’s time to say goodbye. Our staff will take you to your rooms.”

Gaston clung to Mutti’s neck, trying not to cry as she whispered in his ear and stroked his head. Then Mutti kissed Edith on both cheeks. “I will visit you when I can,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Be a good girl.”

Edith could not say a word; there was nothing to say. She dissolved in tears in her mother’s arms. Her head understood why Mutti was leaving her, but her heart was breaking. Finally, Mutti gently pulled away and looked deeply into Edith’s eyes. “Remember who you are,” she said. And then she was gone.

The Library at Moissac

Edith rubbed at her tears with the back of her hand; she did not want Shatta to see her crying. She had to be strong. But Shatta had watched these goodbyes more times than she could count. She understood how painful it was, both for the children and for their parents. She handed Edith a handkerchief, saying, “It will take time for you to get used to being with us, Edith. I’m not going to pretend that it will be easy. But our children become strong in our care, like strong Scouts. You will be safe here, and you will adjust. And I hope you will make the best of it.” And with that, Shatta led Edith out the door.

Shatta and Bouli Simon

Edith carried her small suitcase and followed Shatta up the stairs, down a long hallway, and into a large bright dormitory with ten beds facing one another in two neat rows.

“This will be yours,” Shatta said, pointing to a bed close to the window. “Unpack your things and put them on this shelf. The girls are in evening activities, but they will be back shortly. The toilet and shower room are down the hall. If there is anything you need, I’ll be in my office. Otherwise, sleep well, Edith. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Edith sank down on her bed. She bit her trembling lip but didn’t cry. She had cried so much in the past few days that it was almost as if she had no more tears left.

She pulled her suitcase onto the bed and opened it. It was times like this when Edith longed for Sophie, but her doll had been lost during one of the family’s many moves. Mutti offered to buy Edith another doll, but it wouldn’t be the same. Besides, Edith still found comfort in talking to Sophie.

“You’re the only one who knows how I really feel,” Edith said softly, as she pictured herself hugging her doll tightly. “I’m scared, Sophie. There’s no one I can talk to, and no one who remembers with me.” She closed her eyes, trying to remember Vienna and Papa waiting for her after school. She struggled to conjure up her father’s face and the special smile he reserved just for her. She longed to be back in Brussels, or even Beaumont-de-Lomagne, reading stories with Therese or listening to the music that Mutti played on the record player. She tried making bits of memories into pictures: what did Papa look like in his soccer uniform? What did Mutti’s dress look like — the one she used to wear to the opera? What were the names of all her dolls? But the connections were too fragile and broke like worn thread.

Edith had just placed her sweater on the shelf when she heard voices approaching and footsteps racing toward the room. A group of girls sprinted through the doorway, giggling and shoving one another playfully. They stopped when they saw Edith.

“Hello.” A girl approached Edith and held out her hand. Edith shook it solemnly. “My name is Sarah Kupfer,” the girl said. “You must be Edith Schwalb. Shatta told us that you were arriving today. You’ve got the bed next to mine.” Sarah had pretty blue eyes and long blond braids. She also had a warm and friendly smile. Edith was relieved that the girls knew who she was, as one by one they introduced themselves. They seemed friendly, which was a relief; they even seemed happy. It didn’t make sense: all these girls had been separated from their families, yet they seemed so cheerful!

“I don’t know where my mother is,” Sarah said, as she helped Edith push her suitcase under the bed. “She’s gone into hiding with my brother, somewhere east. My father was taken away. We don’t know where.”

“That’s almost exactly like my family!” Edith exclaimed. “Except it’s my sister who’s with my mother. My little brother is here.”

Sarah nodded. “Everyone’s story is the same — or almost. That’s what makes us a family here.”

“That’s just what Shatta said.”

“Shatta’s wonderful,” said Sarah enthusiastically. “She’s quite strict, kind of like a general keeping us all in line. But she’s very kind, and very smart. She runs this place and organizes all the activities. Wait until you meet her husband, Bouli. He’s like everyone’s father. But be careful — he’s going to want to put drops in your nose to keep the germs away.” Sarah wrinkled up her nose and laughed. “And when you’re eating, if he sees your elbows on the table, he’ll bang the table to teach you manners. But don’t worry,” she added quickly, noting the frightened look on Edith’s face. “He’s really very sweet.”

Several girls began to sing in another corner of the room, their voices blending sweetly. “We have a choir here,” Sarah continued. “You’ll meet Henri, the choir director. He’ll want you to join. And you’ll also meet Germaine, our counselor.”

Edith paused. “Everyone seems so … so happy,” she said. “How’s that possible?”

“None of us laughed when we first arrived,” replied Sarah. “I cried myself to sleep for a week. But think of what’s out there! This is the best place you could be.”

Edith nodded. Out there were arrests, restrictions, prisons, and people who hated her. But could it really be different here? Was Moissac really untouched by the war?

“Did Shatta tell you that the people in Moissac know we’re Jewish?” asked Sarah. “Everyone — children, grown-ups and all the town officials. Can you believe it? If the Nazis found out about us, the whole town would be in danger, not just us. That’s why no one can tell on us! The people of Moissac are wonderful. We’re all in on the same secret!” Sarah’s face shone with delight at this wonderful conspiracy. All Edith could do was shake her head in amazement.

A group of Jewish girl scouts living in the house in Moissac.

As the girls got ready for bed, Germaine, their counselor, arrived.

“I’ve come to turn out the lights, girls, and to meet our new family member. Welcome, Edith,” she said warmly. “I’m sure you have already learned much of what you need to know from Sarah.” Sarah grinned. “I’m the counselor for this room. I’ll help get you settled and make sure you have everything you need.”

But the only thing that Edith needed was her family, and this young woman, not much older than Therese, wouldn’t be able to give her that.

Edith could do no more than nod. She was too exhausted to talk. She crawled under her blanket and reached for her pillow, clinging to one small hope:
Everyone here is just like me. Could they become a family for me too?
It was too soon to know; but somehow, even in the dark in this strange place, Edith felt safe. She hoped and prayed that she would stay that way, and that the running would stop. She thought about Mutti and Papa and hoped that they would also be safe. That was the last thought she had before her eyes closed for the night.

The wake-up bell rang just as the first of the sun’s rays trickled in through the large window. Edith opened her eyes, stretched, and sat up. That was the best sleep she could remember! Her thoughts then drifted to Mutti, but she quickly pulled them back: she had to focus on the present.

Sarah was already making her bed, folding the blanket carefully over the sheets, and fluffing her pillow. “Good morning,” she said. “Make your bed, and I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”

A row of sinks lined one wall of the bathroom. A small towel hung above each basin, with a cubbyhole above it. Edith placed her toothbrush and comb in an empty one. She splashed warm water over her face, scrubbing away the grime with a facecloth and a piece of soap. On either side of her, girls were chatting with one another as they washed. On the way back to their room, Sarah greeted several girls and boys from other rooms and introduced them to Edith.

“Hello, Suzanne,” she said. “Good morning, Eric. Hello, Eve. This is Edith Schwalb. She’s new.”

Even Ida, who had first told Edith about Moissac, was there to greet her. “I’m glad you made it here,” Ida said.

All the girls and boys stopped to say hello and welcome Edith. Everyone was friendly. Everyone smiled and greeted her. It was a comforting start to her first day.

Back in their room, the girls dressed quickly and then began their chores. Everyone had something to do: one girl swept the floor with the big broom that was kept behind the door; Sarah grabbed a cloth and dusted the window and bed frames; someone then lined the beds up in an exact formation.

Germaine entered the room and asked, “How did you sleep, Edith?”

Edith shrugged. “Better than I thought I would.”

“Good,” Germaine replied. “Now, grab a cloth. The quicker we do the chores, the quicker we get breakfast.”

Food! Suddenly Edith was starving. Before they left home, her stomach had been in knots and had barely held down a slurp of Mutti’s soup. Now its grumbling encouraged her to pick up a soft cloth and help Sarah with the dusting.

Finally, chores were done, and the girls lined up to walk down the stairs and into the dining room.

About a hundred girls and boys, with their counselors, were gathered around their tables when Edith, Sarah, and the others entered. Edith wondered about Gaston. He was staying in a smaller house next door, set up especially for the youngest children. She would go to see him as soon as she could.

“This is the table for our room,” said Sarah. “But first, I want you to meet Bouli.” She steered Edith toward a tall, thin man standing off to one side, greeting some children.

“Bouli,” said Sarah, tugging on his suit jacket. “This is Edith Schwalb.”

Bouli Simon eyed Edith closely through his black-rimmed glasses. Instinctively, Edith grabbed her nose.
You won’t put any drops in me,
she thought. But Bouli smiled, took Edith’s hand in his, and shook it warmly.

“Ah, Edith,” he said. “Bienvenue! Welcome. We’re so pleased to have you in our house. Sarah here is the perfect guide. She’ll tell you all about our routines. But if you need anything else, Shatta and I are here to help.”

His fatherly gaze brought a lump to Edith’s throat, but she managed a quick thank-you before taking her place at the table next to Sarah. Breakfast was wonderful: oatmeal with cream, thick slices of toast with preserves, and hot coffee with steaming milk and sugar. While the children ate, Bouli patrolled the aisles of the dining room and, just as Sarah had warned, whenever he spotted someone with elbows on the table, he rapped a sharp reminder. The children straightened quickly each time Bouli came close, but they weren’t afraid. They smiled at him and continued eating.

After breakfast, Edith joined the other children her age for the walk to the local school. Sarah told her that the older boys and girls studied at the house, either in the classrooms or in the workshops, where they learned photography, bookbinding, and carpentry.