Through Those Windows

There are blasts, ruins everywhere and every day. Those marked the passing of each pain-filled day. Here I am, a girl by the name of Sara in the year 1942, standing in the middle of everything, surviving this war that has scarred my innocence.

For months, this war has gone on without a sign that it will ever end. I had even given up hope that I could possibly make it through. Mother comforted me enough and father, he is coping as well as he could in his old age. I vaguely remembered the time when mother told me that a sixteen-year-old should never have to live through this. Alas, not everything is as it should be.

When I looked up to the sky, wishing myself happy birthday back then, all I could do was cry. It pained me to see mother hiding our rations and father, trying to bring food to our table. I wondered how long they should suffer. Perhaps there was no hope of getting through everything.

I remember one of the nights following my sixteenth birthday. The cool air blew in through every space it could cover. Shivering, I rubbed my palms together. Still, I felt the cold tingle up my spine. Of course, I could do nothing about it. Had I had a thick wool piece of clothing, I would not use it either. It would not do to be comfortable when others are suffering.

Mother told me how sorry she was that I had to live through this. I understood and I lent her a shoulder to lean on for I knew how much this war had affected her, even more given that she was pregnant. All I could do was caress her back in soothing circles. My tears fell unnoticed as I comforted mother. Even as I did this, I could not help but worry for my unborn sibling.
I could never forget that night because it was for the first time that I saw mother cry. Normally, she would keep a passive expression and not let the slightest emotion out. It would take a lot to see her cry. I knew that for sure.

As the days passed by, my family, burdened with poverty faced challenge once again. Father was missing. I knew that father went out to find food for us. The moment he stepped out of the house this morning, a feeling of uneasiness crept into my stomach. By noon, there were no traces of him still. Even in my calmness and patience, I could not help but feel restless.

Apparently, news that my father had gone missing reached mother’s ears. She broke down again. I knew it could not be healthy for her for I knew that she would be expecting any day now. With caution, I helped mother to her room and coaxed her to rest. Eventually, she fell asleep.

Every night I prayed that father would return safe and whole. Even so, my heart raced every time a secret messenger conveyed the news of death throughout the village. The feeling of anxiousness never left me. Consequently, I shouldered the duty father had carried and at the same time, surviving on my own in hopes of keeping mother and the baby alive.

Then, the day arrived and my sister Liza was born. My heart soared and joy filled me even with the absence of father. I had never been happier in all my life since the war started. My eyes water and I looked at mother who felt happy at the arrival of a newborn. Mother and I were equally elated.

Smiling, tears flow freely onto my cheeks. I discovered something I never thought I would find. Through those windows, those eyes, I see innocence and hope emanating from them. It was as if there was light shining from the depths of those brown eyes.

Warmth filled me in those few seconds. It struck my heart in a sudden. ‘She is our hope, oh dear sister. Maybe there is hope after all. Maybe I will survive through this,’ I whispered to myself. At the same time, I felt a strange feeling that father would return to us. If not today, then maybe someday he would. With a sudden urge, I looked up towards the direction of the door. There, I saw father standing at the doorway, smiling at us. For a moment, I could not find my voice. In the space of thirty seconds, all I could say to father was, ‘welcome home father.’

While the war has scarred my innocence, father’s return back then despite the odds, the strength I never knew I had when after I celebrated my sixteenth birthday, mother’s genuine care and the birth of my dear sister has given me hope that one day, this will end. One day, our hope will shine brighter than today.