Where Is My Mama?

"Mama?"

"Shh! Oh dear child, your mother is not here. Please be silent tonight of all nights."

"But--"

"Softly."

"But what is going on?"

"You remember Herr Hitler, darling? He doesn't like us Jews very much. He - he wants to do horrible things to us."

"Is that why I must be quiet?"

"Yes child. Now crawl under those blankets in the trunk. They will keep you warm and safe."

"But I still don't understand."

"You will when you're older, child. Now hush!"

Boots on the sidewalk. Pounding on the magnificent front door. Fabric tearing. Glass breaking.

She fearfully waited in terrible silence, and then--. The attic door, now no more than a nail-embedded plank, was torn open. Gestapo.

All is silent once more...

"Lady? Where is my mama?"