TCNJ

36 The College of New Jersey Magazine O " German soldiers would pass by me, pat me on the head and greet me in German. I was blonder than all their children and my eyes were certainly bluer than theirs, or even than Hitler's for that matter. " over to the large window facing the Rue des Fiennes and the world that I used to inhabit. They seemed wor- ried when I'd wander over to it but never gestured for me to move away. My brief "excursions" to the edge of the window were my only contact with the outside world. In fact, that big window became my only porthole to humanity and was the place I most wanted to be every weekday, as the children would emerge from the church school across the street in the afternoons. They would hang around after school, talking boisterously, shoving each other or kneeling on the cobbled sidewalk where they had chalked off a square for shooting marbles. Every time I looked at the children I was overwhelmed with envy. It seemed totally incredible to me that some children were actually Often, elaborate plans were made to move children from one place to the next to keep the Nazis from finding them. Albert had been living in the church basement for months when, suddenly, Motl appeared at the church doors and whisked Albert away just moments before the Gestapo arrived. Albert's new home was to be with an older couple who made their living as weavers and were willing to help keep Albert safe. Quiet — the quiet of hiding — had been my new modus vivendi ever since leaving my mother. Without ever speaking a word, the couple taught me how to weave with wicker. Working hard at a craft all day long infused our lives with peaceful- ness and calm. I would only miss talking during those moments when I meandered

• Cover