“Every one of us is in danger as long as the Nazis remain in power. The only truly safe place to be is in God’s hands.”

Ans began to feel calm again as she listened to Opa’s soothing voice. For the first time since leaving Leiden, her heart wasn’t flailing wildly as if trying to escape from her chest.

“I’ve had to tell so many lies, Opa, and I know what the Bible says about lying. Ever since I was Maaike’s age, you’ve drilled into me how much God hates liars. But I’m working with the Resistance now, trying to save lives, and that means I have to lie all the time.”

“Here, take her for a moment,” he said, shifting the baby into Ans’s arms. “I want to read you the verses from Proverbs that I used in last week’s sermon.” He stood and retrieved his Bible from the table, then sat beside her again, paging through it. The familiar rustling of the thin pages was somehow comforting. “Here’s what it says, Ans —and it’s a command: ‘Rescue those being led away to death; hold back those staggering toward slaughter. If you say, “But we knew nothing about this,” does not he who weighs the heart perceive it? Does not he who guards your life know it? Will he not repay everyone according to what they have done?’ I believe God is on our side in this work we’re doing. And you’re certainly not alone in doing it.”

“So it’s okay to lie?”

“It’s not. But the Jewish midwives lied to Pharaoh in order to save Jewish babies. Moses was one of those rescued children, and he led millions to freedom. There’s a difference between lying to save yourself and for your selfish ends —to get yourself out of trouble or make yourself look good —and lying to save another person’s life. A huge difference.”

“The people I work with in the Resistance may be coming to see you. They need safe hiding places, and I told them you might be able to help. You know which people in the village to trust.”

“Yes, of course I’ll help. But now look at the time,” he said as the mantel clock struck the hour. “I need to drive you out to the farm before curfew.”

“It’s already past curfew. Won’t you get into trouble?”

“I’m allowed a little leeway as a pastor. Deaths and illnesses and other crises have no respect for curfews. But perhaps you’d better sleep at the farm tonight rather than risk coming back with me. Let me turn out these lights, and we’ll go.”

CHAPTER 33