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Tears on the School Desk Hermine Morrison

Tears on the School Desk

Hermine Morrison

Published July 1st 2007
ISBN : 9781554521166
Paperback
160 pages
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 About the Book 

A vivid recounting of a determined young Austrian girls horrific experiences of family betrayals and of World War II. One reads much of this account as one passes by a traffic accident, peeking through fingers, intrigued but fearful of what comesMoreA vivid recounting of a determined young Austrian girls horrific experiences of family betrayals and of World War II. One reads much of this account as one passes by a traffic accident, peeking through fingers, intrigued but fearful of what comes next. Its not an easy story. The starkness is softened by her experiences of pure young love, her faith, and the heroes shes chosen to keep her going. It is ultimately a life-affirming narrative of this womans life, a narrative not just of survival, but of hope and victory. I dreamed of having a little flower, a pet of my own, a light in the room, a toy to play with and never being locked up again. Bypassing daily news, Mother missed rules, didnt know, and didnt realize, the danger in which we lived. Our mother was always very happy to help her Jewish friend, Mrs. Hackenberg, run a good business in the secondhand store. What they didnt know was that the Gestapo watched. The smell of the horse manure cut off my breath. I had to get out. While I scrambled out of the box, I hit both my toes a few more times. Finally, I made it, with my Sylva. As I walked, pushing my carriage with my doll in it, each step I took left blood behind on the sidewalk. With tears on my hand, I wrote on the wall of the prison in which I now knew for sure my mom was trapped. I love you, Mom! O, dear God, please! Let my dear mommy come home. Suddenly, my life changed. I wasnt even hungry anymore. From now on, my survival didnt matter. I lived for the moment, to be able to see and hear my love sing again. Everything I owned, including myself, I would have gladly given for my Serafin, though I knew I could never call him my own.