1

“I almost didn’t survive November 1942.” My great grandmother says; as we’re gathered at the dinner table.

I set my fork down. Intrigued, I look up at my great grandmother, raising my eyebrows as a signal for her to continue. 

She listens, “It was a dark, cold winter. World War II was yet to come to an end. Adolf Hitler seemed to only be growing stronger.”

At first, hearing this, I become confused; forgetting that my great grandmother use to live in Germany, when she was a teen. Her dad was in the United States army, and he was deployed out to Germany at the start of the war. So, my great grandmother and her mom moved to Germany, as-well. 

“I hadn’t, for some reason, been bothered by the war up until that year. As you know, my father was in the military. All the U.S. soldiers whom had been sent to Germany were together in a camp. My father had became very ill, and so, not wanting anybody else sick, his general allowed him to come home. Of course, my mother and I were oh-so happy. My little brother had been born just a month before, and my father hadn’t gotten to see him.” My great grandmother pauses to take a drink of tea, and then she continues. 

“It was the day my father was going to arrive home. There was a knock on the door, and I swear, I’d never saw my mom run as fast as she did in that moment. I went to pick my brother up out of his crib, and made my way into the living room. It was then I saw a folded flag being handed to my mother. I felt like my heart had fallen completely out of my body. My mother fell to her knees, clutching the flag to her heart, and sobbed.”

“I directed my attention to my brother, whom had fallen asleep in my arms. This innocent child, undeserving of pain and suffering; has lost its only father. Tears make their way down my cheeks. The angel I hold in my arms reaches its tiny hand up to my face. I manage to smile at him, even with this debilitating pain I’m feeling.”

Author's Note

Constructive criticism!!