Chapter 23 Anna
Anna
Moringen
Helene did not return to the hospital. Though her wounds were more superficial than the time before, that second beating from
Ludmilla broke something deeper in Helene. It penetrated to her soul. Everything she had always believed in and fought for
was now in doubt.
The block leader allowed her to stay in bed all day sleeping, since she was pregnant and could lose the baby. Anna brought
her food every morning, afternoon, and evening. Alice was riddled with guilt over what had happened. She read to Helene at
night, hoping that books would help heal the invisible wounds in her heart.
Helene thought constantly of Derek and his life outside the camp.
She did not want to let herself get caught in the chains all around her.
What the guards wanted was to break her down, to deconstruct her personality.
She sensed her own vulnerability and knew that she was at real risk of caving.
That knowledge was its own kind of pain, nearly physical.
Yet somehow Helene trusted that she would hold out.
She clung to the belief that God had put inside each human being an inviolable force of dignity and love.
The beauty of the words she heard every night in Alice’s sweet voice began to work its magic. Books, her old friends, were
healing her once again.
“How are you today, dearie?” Anna asked, stroking her forehead as Helene began to cry. “Don’t fret; it’s all passing. Hold
on to that idea. Life is much more than a few years of suffering on this earth. On this side of eternity, everything seems
painful and confusing. But on the other side, there’s hope. When we look at life from this perspective, it lessens the pain
just a smidge.”
Anna’s words were sweet to hear but painful to Helene’s heart. “I don’t know anything about eternity. Honestly, right now
it’s not a very comforting notion,” Helene answered, sitting up a bit. “God is allowing all this to happen. But why? Doesn’t
he see what we’re going through?”
“We can put God in the dock, so we don’t have to sit there ourselves as humans. That, too, at its core, is very human. What’s
going on here is the work of all of us. Humans have such a capacity to hate and to turn one another into beasts—or, actually,
something worse than beasts. I’m a simple woman. I’ve read a bit, but these old eyes wrinkled by time have seen more than
their share.” Anna looked off into the distance as tears welled up. She swallowed hard and continued. “If there’s no eternity,
the people who have done such wicked things will get off scot-free and will never pay for their crimes. Justice for so many
innocent people cries out. If we’re just a breath, a passing specter, who will bring justice for them?”
Helene followed what her friend said, but it contradicted what she had believed most of her adult life. Many ideologies had promised that paradise was possible on planet Earth, but every attempt to make it a reality resulted in disaster.
“I’ll just have to take what you’re saying on faith and believe it through your eyes,” Helene said at last, giving Anna a
hug.
The next day, Helene got up from bed and went to the workshop as if nothing had happened. She felt heavier and heavier from
her pregnancy, but the sensation of having another life inside her made her smile every time she thought of it, which was
almost constantly. That life would surge up in the midst of so much death and suffering was a veritable act of rebellion and
goodness.
A few humdrum weeks went by. The heat of summer arrived, and the longer days were more draining on the prisoners, who were
forced to work as slaves from sunup to sundown. Their bodies were worn out, and conditions at the camp were ever worsening:
less food, more work, and the guards growing more sinister by the day.
Helene began to notice that Anna was growing thinner very quickly. She suspected that the “extra” food Anna claimed to have
been given for Helene was actually part of her own ration. Helene was eating for two now, and not even what Dr. Ruth sent
was enough to keep her close to feeling satisfied.
A few days after it was clear to Helene that Anna was skin and bones, the elderly woman got sick. It seemed like a common
cold at first, but her condition got worse and worse until Helene took her to the infirmary.
Their roles had reversed, and it was Helene’s turn to tend to her friend. Besides bringing Anna hot soup and keeping her company,
Helene told her all the goings on of camp life and the bits of news she heard about the outside world.
“Germany is hosting the Olympics next year.”
“I can’t believe the civilized nations are allowing that,” Anna snapped and then began to cough.
“Don’t speak, please. Save your strength,” Helene encouraged her.
“I’m old, and strength is exactly what I don’t have,” Anna said with a smile, but then another coughing attack left her breathless.
Helene helped her take a sip of water, part of which dribbled down the old woman’s chin. Her eyes were bulging out above her
sunken cheeks. Anna’s face had quickly gone from sweetly wrinkled to gaunt and worn out as life slipped away from her.
“I’m not going to get over this, Helene. I always figured I’d get out of this place and see my family again, but that’s not
in God’s plan. I’d like to ask you to do something for me.”
“Don’t talk like that. You’ll get better . . .” Helene said, biting her lip to hold back the tears.
“No, honey, I’m not getting better. So I want you to look for my family and tell them how much I have always loved them. Then
give them this letter.”
Anna pulled an envelope from under the sheet. Helene took it from her trembling hand.
“Tell them to get out of Germany. Things aren’t going to get better here. These people in charge, they’re possessed by the
devil himself.” A coughing spree bent Anna over.
Helene called for Ruth, then turned back to her friend. “I will, Anna, I promise. Now you should get some rest.” Helene kissed
her forehead and stepped away to talk with Ruth.
“How is she, really?”
“Not good. Recovery is not likely. The infection is in her lungs, and I’ve got nothing to stop it.”
“If I talk with the director, maybe he’d have pity for an old woman and—”
“Helene, they don’t care about Anna or any of us. We’re just slaves they’re trying to get as much out of as possible.”
Helene knew Ruth was right. She looked back at her friend resting in the bed. Anna’s eyes were closed, and her body seemed
to be shrinking as life seeped out of it. Helene was afraid to leave her and only to come back to find that she had gone.
Death was a form of giving up, and Helene did not want to accept that the woman who had helped her survive in Moringen might
succumb to it.
She walked back to the barrack, blinded by tears. She found Alice and they hugged, Helene weeping uncontrollably. At first
the young woman tried to comfort her friend, but she had no words to offer. She ended up joining Helene’s grief. True love
did not need words to make itself known.
The next morning, Anna did not wake up. She had gone peacefully, surrounded by love in death just as in life, with a sweet
smile on her lips.
They could not bury her. The guards took the body away, and Helene spent the day crying and thinking about Anna.
The next day Helene got up, washed her face, thanked God for allowing her path to cross with Anna’s, and decided to fight
to get out of camp and return home full of love. At that moment, nothing else mattered to Helene. She was determined to survive.