Chapter 13
ETHEL
At the next monthly meeting of the Mannheim Officers’ Wives Club held at Dorothy Hansen’s house, Ethel turned out more sharply than usual, in a silk floral swing dress with a petticoat. This month’s theme was pearls, so she wore a velvet tam with over fifty pearls sewn throughout.
“So good to see you, Ethel,” Dorothy greeted her warmly; a flowing string of pearls hung down to her ribs. “We haven’t bumped into each other in weeks. How have you been?”
Ethel removed her pearl-beaded gloves. “I’ve been so busy helping at a local children’s orphanage. Is it okay if I add an agenda item to our discussion today? They could use our help.”
“Certainly,” Dorothy said. “Why don’t you go in and make yourself comfortable. We will get started in a few moments.”
Ethel said a few hellos as she made her way through the living room to Julia, whose daughter cooed softly and kicked her feet against her mother’s lap.
“Well, look who decided to show up,” Julia teased. “I thought we had plans to meet at the May Day luncheon?”
“Honey, I know, and I’ll make it up to you. Promise.” Ethel slid into the seat next to Julia and tickled the baby’s feet. “I have some awesome news.” She could barely contain her excitement.
“What?” Julia leaned forward in her seat.
“I’m going to be a mother,” Ethel whispered in her ear.
“Oh my goodness.” Julia touched her stomach. “Praise God.”
“Shh,” Ethel grabbed Julia’s hands, not ready to share her news with the women in the room. “But it’s not what you think. I’m not having a baby.”
Julia’s face fell, confused.
“We’re adopting. A little girl. Her name is Anke. She’s one of the children at the orphanage I told you about.”
“The orphanage that has been taking up all of your time?”
Ethel nodded. “Bert and I are picking her up on Saturday.”
“Oh my God! That’s wonderful.” She touched her cheek. “This is such a big step. Are you ready?”
“Who knows. I’ve been running around feeling like a chicken without its head attached, trying to get our little place together.”
“How did all this come about?” Julia still looked dumbfounded. “And I better not be the last to know.”
Ethel fanned herself as she caught Julia up. “The children there would melt your little heart, girlfriend. I wish you could come with me for a visit.”
Just then, Dorothy tapped a glass with a fork. “Hello, ladies, and welcome. I think we’ll go ahead and get started. We have a long agenda to get through today.”
Ethel’s eyes swept the room, taking in the same eight or nine faces of women who attended monthly. Then she saw a pair of women whom she had not met.
“We have new members.” Dorothy gestured and prompted them each to stand and introduce themselves. Once they were finished, she said, “Please take time to welcome these ladies to our club and get to know them personally. Community is everything.”
Dorothy called the meeting to order and then ran through the agenda. When she finally got to new business, Ethel raised her hand.
“Yes, Ethel, you have the floor.” Dorothy motioned for her to come take her place at the front of the room.
“Good afternoon, everyone. I am Ethel Gathers, for those who don’t know me. I have been volunteering at the St. Hildegard’s children’s orphanage, not far from here, and they are greatly in need of our support.”
Ethel looked around to make sure all eyes were on her before she continued.
“Apparently, with the war and occupation, there have been a lot of children born between American soldiers and German women. Unfortunately, the soldiers get reassigned, and the women are left with the children. In many cases, these women are ostracized for having children out of wedlock, they cannot afford to keep their children, and so the children end up displaced, some to local orphanages.”
Ethel heard an audible breath. Many mothers were rocking babies on their laps or had toddlers playing at their feet.
“Sister Ursula, the gracious nun who runs the home, could use our help.”
“This sounds like a worthy cause. What can we do?” Dorothy asked.
“There are a lot of moving parts.” Ethel rolled her shoulders back. “We need to aid the German mothers here who are raising their children without support.”
“For the mothers, maybe we could make gift baskets filled with baby supplies, perishable food, and blankets. I can head that up,” offered Dorothy.
“That’s a great idea,” Ethel replied. “The children in the orphanage need our support as well. Most are mixed race, German mothers and American Negro fathers.” She noticed a few of the women squirming in their seats.
But she continued, “Being in Europe this past year has made me appreciate the privilege of being an American citizen. Wouldn’t you agree?
” She made eye contact with as many as she could.
“I’ve made up my mind that these children, having American blood, deserve those same privileges.
I’m working on a plan to have them adopted by American families, both here on military business and those back home. ”
The room was silent. Then Julia, the only other Negro woman in the room, spoke up. “Ethel, I had no clue. Those poor children. I think that’s a wonderful idea. Anything I can do to help you, please let me know.”
“Me too.”
“I can help there too.”
Dorothy stood. “Ethel, thank you for bringing us such a wonderful cause to throw our support behind. Ladies, why don’t we break up into committees.
We will need one for the German mothers on the ground, one in support of the orphanage, and the other for helping the children with clothes, shoes, and personal items.”
Ethel walked Julia back to her apartment, carrying the baby’s bag over her arm while Julia pushed the pram.
“That was something else. You sure know how to rally the troops.” Julia cackled. “I just knew those white women would turn their noses up at helping our children.”
“It’s all in the way you present the information. Once Dorothy got on board, I knew the others would fall in line.”
“So, tell me about this baby of yours. How old is she? Where’s she from? What does she look like?”
Ethel couldn’t keep the smile from her face. “She’s three years old and took to me on my first visit. Head full of hair, bright eyes, an angel, really.”
“I was going to offer you some of our hand-me-downs, but since she’s older than my little bits, you’ll be handing things down to us.” Julia linked arms with Ethel, and they swung them back and forth like silly schoolgirls.
“My life is about to change. I’ve been wanting this for so long.”
“You are blessed and highly favored. How could you not be,” Julia ribbed her. “The saint that you are.”
“I’m far from a saint, but adopting Anke does feel well with my soul. From the first moment I held her in my arms, I knew that she was heaven-sent.”
They stopped at the intersection and waited for a line of military trucks to rumble by.
“But we still have a lot of work to do. Moving one child is simply not enough. There are so many others who need loving homes.”
“Now that you have the Officers’ Wives on board, that will lighten the load.”
“That’s a start, but we need to create a movement to find good Negro families stationed here in Germany willing to adopt, then get it done without being delayed by months of paperwork.”
They had reached Julia’s apartment building, and little birds chirped hungrily in the silver birch tree. A woman clutching a preschooler in each hand smiled as she passed them by.
“Every evening when I leave, they follow me to the gate, pleading, ‘Mummy, Mummy, we want a mummy.’ It’s heartbreaking.”
“I don’t even want to imagine. But we’ll get it done. Don’t forget, we have the Negro Wives of Mannheim.”
“But we voted to take a hiatus over the summer.”
“You and I can divvy up the list and make phone calls to see who is willing to roll up her sleeves and help.”
“You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right. Now stop worrying and go get ready to pick up your daughter.”
At that Ethel smiled. Her daughter. She was about to become a mother.
On Saturday, Ethel set a fried egg over buttered grits with two pieces of toast in front of Bert, along with his black coffee. Although Bert had good intentions, he had been too busy doing fieldwork and conducting drills and training to find time to visit the orphanage until today.
After finishing, Bert pushed his empty plate away from him, satisfied. “Okay then, darling, lead the way.”
They arrived at the gates of the orphanage to children’s high-pitched voices, laughing and playing. When Ethel shouted out hello, boys and girls dressed in ill-matched clothing came running from every direction.
Sister Ursula unlocked the gate. Ethel and Bert stepped into the courtyard to children who waved and bounced on their toes, excited to see them.
“This is my husband, Albert Gathers,” Ethel introduced him to Sister Ursula as two girls wrapped their arms around Ethel’s waist. “Hallo, meine Damen,” Ethel cooed.
“Everyone just calls me Bert.” He extended his hand to Sister Ursula.
“Nice to have you here, Bert.” She smiled. “Your wife has been a godsend for us. Come with me.”
As they followed Sister Ursula, Ethel noticed that two of the older girls had younger girls fastened between their knees, styling their hair.
She had purchased extra combs, brushes, and pomade and taught them a few simple hairstyles.
Watching them at work pleased her. Little ones rode tricycles, and a few had sticks and were digging holes in the dirt.
Two boys ran up to Bert but stopped right in front of him. Bert leaned down and put his hand up for five. The boys tapped his hand. Then one produced a rubber ball, and within seconds, Bert had a game of catch going with several boys.
As Ethel moved deeper into the courtyard, she spotted Anke underneath the sycamore tree with one of the nuns, rolling a pram back and forth. When Anke saw Ethel, her mouth flew open, and she scooted in Ethel’s direction.
“Mum, Mum,” Anke said, holding her arms up to Ethel, and as Ethel held her against her heartbeat, all was right with the world.
Ethel and Bert stayed all morning, and Sister Ursula invited them to join the children for a simple lunch of vegetable soup and bread.
Bert had taken a liking to one of the older boys, Franz, whose hair Ethel had cut on her second day of volunteering.
Bert and Franz sat together during lunch.
There wasn’t much food to go around, so Ethel sipped on a cup of tea while the girls fought to sit near her.
After lunch, Ethel pried herself away from the children to tell Sister Ursula that she had proposed some of the army wives help with arranging gift baskets for the local mothers in need. “Could you help me locate the mothers?”
“We keep a log of addresses inside the office. I can share them with you.”
“I’m also going to see if there are any military families willing to adopt. These children deserve parents.”
Sister Ursula squeezed her hands in agreement.
When the sun dipped in the sky, Ethel motioned to Bert that it was time to go. Sister Ursula had packed up Anke’s few things, and they had signed the necessary paperwork that gave Ethel and Bert permission to take her home.
Ethel carried Anke on her hip toward the gate, and as Bert followed, Franz was on his heels.
“Me too,” the boy pleaded, latching on to Bert’s palm.
Bert exchanged a sheepish look with Ethel. “What’s one more?”
Ethel didn’t give herself time to talk either of them out of adopting Franz too. She simply nodded in agreement. “Sister Ursula?”
The nun’s hand fluttered to her veil. “Yes, of course. Go for now, and when you come back next week, Ethel, I’ll have the temporary papers ready for Franz.”
Anke rode in Bert’s arms with Franz clutching Ethel’s hand as they all headed home.
When Bert unlocked the front door to their second-floor apartment, there was a white teddy bear with a red bow sitting in the recliner. Anke rushed over to the bear and crushed it to her chest.
“Do you like it?” Ethel sat down in the chair and held Anke in her arms. Then she played a game of peekaboo with the bear, much to Anke’s delight. Her peals of laughter made Ethel’s heart swoon.
“Come on in, son,” Bert said, his hand on Franz’s back.
Unlike Anke, Franz took timid steps around the living room with his eyes darting over the television set, sofa, and coffee table.
The transistor radio seemed to catch his attention, and he meandered to where it sat on the bookshelf in the corner.
Before touching it, he looked at Bert, who nodded encouragingly.
“Let me show you how this works.” Bert turned the dial, and when German folk music cranked out, Franz threw his hands up.
“You like this?” Bert said. “Let me see you dance,” and he tapped his toes and snapped his fingers until the children imitated his movements.
Franz stomped and twirled, and Anke abandoned the bear and shook her hips. Ethel sat watching until Bert reached for her and pulled her to her feet. The four of them held hands and danced around the living room in a circle.
The Gatherses lived in a two-bedroom apartment, and Ethel had converted the spare room into a bedroom for Anke.
All week she had dashed between the homes of the Negro Wives of Mannheim, picking up secondhand items. Pink drapes hung from the window, and she had spread a frilly comforter over the twin-size bed.
Once the kids were settled with snacks and coloring sheets, Bert ran over to the barracks to see if he could secure a cot for Franz.
While Ethel prepared the sauce for chicken à la king, she heard Bert lugging in the camp bed with Franz quickly at his side. As the two rearranged the bedroom to make space for Franz, Ethel and Anke made a game of setting the table.
Over dinner, Bert said, “Once we have the official adoption papers, I can put in for a larger place. The kids sharing a room will work for now, but long term, they’ll need more space.”
Ethel nodded.
“Are you happy, darling?”
“Don’t I look it?” She smiled back. “After all this time. We finally did it. It’s not the way I pictured it, but the Lord sure works in mysterious ways.”
When Ethel climbed into her own bed that night, she was so giddy from her day that sleep eluded her. She thought back to her hands on the grotto at the shrine of Lourdes and the words she had heard. Ethel closed her eyes and mumbled “Thank you” over and over.