“Darling Elisheva,

From the moment you were born, you’ve been our joy, our life. Saying goodbye and letting you go is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But there is no other way for your father and me to save you. The only chance you’ll have to be safe, to live, and to grow and become a woman someday is to release you into another mother’s loving arms. You’re much too young to understand these dark times and the painful choices we are forced to make. Many good, loving people are giving their lives to free the world from the evil that is causing our separation. People have risked their lives to save our family, and I pray that we can find a way to thank them.

If we meet each other again, dear Elisheva, the day will be as joyous as the day you were born. If we don’t see each other again until the World to Come, please remember your father and me from the photographs in this album and know that we love you with our very life and with our every breath.

May God be with you, my beloved child.

Your loving mama”

Lena refolded the letter and tucked it into the envelope. “Will I see that mama and papa again?” Bep asked.

An arrow of pain pierced Ans’s heart. “We’re not sure yet,” she replied.

“Can I finish my lesson now, Mama?”

“Yes. You’re doing so well, Bep.” She returned to her seat on the piano bench and began practicing again.

“Bep’s mother has been such an inspiration to me these past three years,” Lena said. “She showed me how to place the people I love into God’s hands. I’ve learned from her courage.”

“So have I, Mama. I need to go back to Leiden tomorrow and wait for her parents. If they’re alive, that’s where they’ll go. Then I’ll bring them here.”

CHAPTER 63

Everyone in Westerbork rejoiced when the Nazis surrendered. The war in Europe was finally over. Miriam would be able to travel across the country to Leiden, although the Canadian soldiers warned that the devastation would make the journey difficult. The Nazis had blown up bridges and dikes and flooded large areas of the country. Their demolition squads had destroyed the docks in Amsterdam and Rotterdam, leaving a wasteland in their wake as they’d retreated. Miriam relived her long journey from Cologne as she crossed the Netherlands in the overcrowded railcar. She’d fled across the border at night with Abba six years ago, and after several months in Westerbork, they’d made this journey to Leiden together, filled with hope for the future. How lovely the Dutch countryside and quaint villages had seemed. But now the view from the train was very different. She might have been traveling across a different country.