The Candle Still Flickers... in My Heart

By Edy Elfring

This sequel, The Candle Still Flickersin My Heart, tells about why I had to leave my island at the age of 15 and all I ever knew, I took Ola, our island, witch with me in my heart and tried hard to find a way go to college to become a veterinarian and help all the hurting animals in the world. Being poor was one strike against me, but I did not let that end my dream. There is a lot to learn, weird things happen as Ola tried to protect me from far away. Finding ghost in the castles undergrounds was fun. Winding up in jail in East Germany and about to be transported to Siberia was no fun.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491812792

Edy Elfring

She was born in 1943 and raised wild and free on the small forgotten German island of Fehrmarn, in the Baltic Sea. She had a witch that took her under her wings to teach her the art of witchery. Her first memoir, Faraway the Candle Softly Flickers, will tell you about those times. She came to America with her husband and daughter in 1968. She worked many different jobs, is retired now and lives in beautiful Texas. She love to paint, knit, write and grows a lot of flowers and vegetables. She is a Texas Master naturalist, belongs to The Native Plant Society and The Texas Mountain Trail Writers. She spends a lot of time caring for the animals at the local shelter and keeps three public gardens in our small town pretty.

Book preview

The Candle Still Flickers…

In My Heart

By

Edy Elfring

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AuthorHouse™ LLC

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

©

2013 by Edy Elfring. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 09/30/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4918-1280-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-1288-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-1279-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013916062

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Foreword

Preface

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

About the Author

To my dear daughter, Sheila Undine Ratliff

Her husband, Thomas

And my grandsons, Joshua and Elijah

With all my love.

Foreword

This book is a sequel to my memoir Faraway . . . . the Candle Softly Flickers.

Preface

Here is a short look into my first book;

I grew up poor and mostly hungry, but wild and free, on a small, forgotten island, named Fehmarn, in the Baltic Sea.

Our powerful, respected and feared witch took me under her wings to teach me the art of witchery. People whispered she danced with the devil on sinner’s row.

Our only man of the law settled disputes with his fist and we buried the small, innocent children at sea, so they may be born again.

Forced by poverty, mothers often gave their infants to people in Denmark, while the old, mean ghost still fiercely guarded the mount graves.

Once, the powerful current of the ocean took us children into the forbidden Russian territory. Without medical facilities, illnesses raged over our island without mercy.

Centuries ago, pirates built a huge church on our island. Some of the beheaded souls became trapped in its attic raising havoc at times.

The devil’s fingers (tornados) devastated our island and I wondered if God really existed.

My grandma brewed fine liquor in her cellar and gave birth to 24 children.

We believed doomsday was upon us the day our witch and the entire ocean disappeared.

♥

Acknowledgments

Many thanks to:

My Executive Copyeditor Sheila Undine Ratliff,

To my Line Editor Pat Jett.

And many thanks to all my friends for their support.

Last, but not least, I thank The Texas Mountain Trail Writers for

their support. What a fun group we are!

Chapter 1

Leaving my island

In the year of 1958, at the age of barely 15 years, my 8 years of schooling ended. My family was very poor and it was customary for children, my age, to leave home and take care of themselves. I left my secluded island of Fehmarn to fulfill my dream of becoming a veterinarian to end all the suffering of the animals on our island and eventually the world.

Slowly, the old, tired ferry slid into its landing on the mainland of Germany. One soft bump against the sandy bank and the ferryman jumped off to tie the small boat onto the strong, wooden pole. The huge raven spread its black wings wide and elegantly shook the many water droplets off his feathers. Then, with one shrill scream, he flew off the boat’s hut into the wet fog.

Unsure, I stepped onto the sandy beach. The old man walked over to me with his arms spread out. A lone tear clung to his eye.

He gave me a gentle hug and said, If I was young, I’d go with you, girl.

His shaggy, big dog, gave me a wishful look, as though he would like to walk on with me. I raised my hand and waved farewell to both of them and my island, which the cold fog still completely engulfed.

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My Mom and Me

Slowly I skipped and walked along the sandy coastline, holding onto my bundle which held my clothes, my loaf of bread, and the fine smoked eel, my grandma gave me when I left home. I felt a little scared, but also excited. Before long, the sun licked away some of the fog and I could see clearer. Now, my island looked like a fistful of earth hanging in the sky. I began to feel good again about my plan to walk to the city of Heiligenhaven, find a job, and work hard to save up enough money to go to school in Berlin, or perhaps at another place to become a veterinarian.

As I walked along the beach, I came upon a big group of sleeping seagulls. Suddenly, one of the gulls saw me and gave a loud warning scream. All the dozens of seagulls awoke, flew up into the air screaming loudly at each other and me. Then they dove into the water to fetch their breakfast.

To my left, grew a tall, dark green pine forest. On one of those trees, a group of ravens rested with their wings spread out wide to dry their feathers. I hoped the lone, huge raven from the ferry sat among them.

The sound of a locomotive surprised me. Quickly I ran into the forest to take a look at the train. Sure enough, there, inside the thick forest, laid a pair of straight, shiny tracks! Excited, I sat down on the moss-covered ground and waited for the train to pass. It did not take long and a huge locomotive came toward me. It worked hard to pull its wagons up the hill. Grey, darkish smoke rose from its chimney and below the engine. The ground I sat on began to vibrate slightly. Soon the monstrous machine ran past me, while hissing and rumbling loudly. How exciting! The passengers in both wagons waved and smiled. I sat there for a moment, remembering how much fun I had, when I rode in one of those trains to far away children’s homes.

A ray of sunshine brought me back out of my daydream and I realized my stomach growled. Carefully, not to waste a morsel of my limited supply, I ripped a small piece from the dark bread and broke a good piece of the smoked eel. Oh, how delicious they both tasted! When I placed the eel’s bone on the ground next to me, a big raven came walking over. It quickly grabbed the bone and flew away with it. It surprised me greatly, because I had never seen ravens eating fish bones.

In the late afternoon, when the sun began to sink, I noticed a village in the far distance, still near the ocean. It was too far away for me to reach before darkness took over this part of the world and turned the air bitter cold. I needed to look for shelter! With a last look out to sea, I turned and walked into the thick pine forest past the railroad tracks. Tired from all the walking, I bedded down in a hollow spot, covered with years of pine needles. It was a fine soft place and far enough into the forest where the chilly night wind could not touch me. Hurriedly I put on my second set of clothes, clung onto my food and went to sleep.

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The house I grew up in with 14 other souls

A loud squabble awoke me in the early dawn. A grey squirrel and a raven fought over my loaf of bread, which lay next to me. A second look showed me that the raven actually protected my bread. In a great hurry, I grabbed the loaf and held it close to me. The screaming squirrel ran quickly up the tall pine tree. The raven stood there proudly, watching the squirrel disappear. Then it turned its head and looked at me with deep, dark eyes. I took a few crumbs and handed them to the bird. It did not take the crumbs, spread out its wings and waddled away. The first sun’s rays spread light into the thick forest. What a promise for a fine day! After shaking the pine needles off my cloth, I walked down to the beach to freshen up and have my breakfast.

The water still felt very cold and I decided against a morning swim. A few splashes of the ice cold, salty water into my face woke me completely. After I ate the last part of my delicious eel, I laid the bones beside me and waited for the raven to come to take them away, but he did not show up. One good bite out of my bread and I was ready to face the day. Standing up tall and raising both hands I hollered to the world, Here I come, and walked toward the distance village.

♥♥♥

Chapter 2

Please help me, girl!

I reached the first settlement of the small village in the early afternoon. A few skinny dogs sort of crawled up to me and greeted me without barking. There was no one in sight, not even a few screaming children. I found it very strange and began to fear this place.

The moment I turned to walk away, I heard a weak call, Help, please help me!

Cautiously, I walked toward the barn where the call came from. There, near the entrance of a small wire pen laid a young man entangled in a mess of barbwire.

He looked at me with a painful face and asked, Please girl, help me, fetch the wire cutters out of the barn and hand them to me. Do not be afraid, I will not harm you.

I stood there staring at the man, not quite knowing what to do. Then I bravely asked him, Where are all the people of this village?

He answered, At a wedding in the far away town of Heiligenhaven. I volunteered to stay home to feed and protect our animals. Some wolves came a few nights ago, dug beneath this fence here, and attacked our goat. I heard her screams and raced out of the house, with my loaded gun, to rescue her. In the dark, I stumbled, fell and entangled myself in the wire fence. The wolves carried away our screaming, young goat and I am sure they ate her.

I believed the young man and walked into the small barn to look for the wire cutters. Inside, I realized I had no idea what wire cutters looked like. On a small shelf laid a few tools, neatly kept next to each other. I took all of them, hoping the wire cutters were among them, walked back out to the young man and handed him the tools. Hurriedly he grabbed one of them and started to cut the wires around his entangled legs. I shivered with fear when I saw his legs close up. They bled and oozed, and some wire stuck deep into his flesh.

The brave young man freed himself without a scream or tear. His face was full of sweat though and showed the pain he felt. For a short moment, he just laid on the ground with his eyes closed and his teeth bitten together. I waited for a scream to follow when he opened his mouth, but he did not scream.

Slowly he sat up, moved his right leg over a little to look at it and said, Oh no. He looked at me, pointed at the part of his thigh where some wire stuck in his flesh. Out of the infected flesh trickled yellow pus.

Pleadingly, with a face full of pain, he looked up at me and asked, Girl, can you be brave enough and pull this rusted wire out of my thigh?

Now my whole body shook with fear, but I bravely answered, Yes. Very scared and unsure of myself, I asked with shivering teeth, Where is your healing woman?

This is just a family village; we do not have a healing woman. I have not even heard of one in the next small settlement. (At that time and place, medical help was only available in far away big cities. It was common for people to help themselves.)

My mind raced back in time when my grandma ripped part of a pitchfork out of someone’s leg and what she did afterward. Slowly I kneeled down next to the young man’s leg, begging God and Ola, our island witch, silently to give me the strength and power to do this the right way. Then I sat down on his leg just below his knee and asked him to hold his thigh down hard.

I remembered my grandma looking at me and saying, I need to rip this out at the first try, so I will not hurt him twice.

My hands shivered violently when I reached down with both hands and touched one end of the imbedded barbwire. I closed my eyes briefly and begged for help once more, to Ola, in our secret number language. Suddenly my hands became steady; I looked the hurting man into his face and said, Now!

He pushed down hard on his thigh.

Like someone else guided my hands, I grabbed the ends of the barbwire hard and pulled it out of his flesh. Blood, pus and some of his flesh stuck on the 5 inch barbwire, which I held in my hands now. A lot of blood seeped out of his wound. The young man did not scream. His upper, limp body fell backwards to the ground. With his eyes closed and his face relaxed, he lay there absolutely still, but he breathed steadily. I had enough strength to drag him into the small, humble house, but not enough to lift him up onto a bed. I left him lying on the dirt floor and tied his biggest wound down with a towel, placed a pillow beneath his head and covered him with a blanket.

Then I started a roaring fire in the big iron stove to get the room warm. When I grabbed a bucket to fetch some salt water from the ocean the young man awoke. He looked at me surprised. I told him, Lay still, I will be back soon! In a great hurry, I ran through the forest and down to the beach. There, I quickly fetched a big bucket full of healing, salty seawater and ran back to the house without spilling too much water. There, I quickly heated part of it to wash the man’s wounds. When I sat down beside him with my bowl of hot seawater and a rag, I asked him, What is your name?

He did not answer.

Scared and somewhat shaken, I removed his blanket and thoroughly washed out his biggest wound first. Then I squeezed the pus out of it and slowly flushed the wound out with more seawater. My stomach began to feel strangely sick when I tied the big wound up with a fresh rag. Dizziness overcame me when I stood up, but I made it outside in time to throw up. After a few deep breaths, I walked back inside and washed out the rest of the man’s wounds. He did not move at all. I covered him up, folded my shivering hands and prayed to God and Ola to heal him.

I then searched the one room house for something to cook for the young man and myself. In one corner of the room, I found a salt barrel filled with some fine fatback strips among other pieces of meat. Next, I discovered a big metal bucket full of dried, shelled beans. Some onions, dried leek and bundles of dandelions hung on a wall. A huge barrel half filled with dried fish stood in the farthest corner. I assumed these were to feed to the animals and took four big pieces out of the barrel, one for each dog. After I placed the dried fish into a washbowl and added water, I set it on the edge of the stove so the fish would melt. Then I took a big cook pot, filled it partially with sweet water from the well and placed it on the stove. Quickly I added the strips of the fatback, onions, dried leek and many handfuls of beans. Tonight we would have a fine soup!

With a fresh bowl of hot seawater, I walked back over to the injured young man to check on his wounds. The moment I uncovered him, he awoke and said, Hi, girl.

I smiled at him and told him, Please lie still, I need to check on your wounds. He did not listen well, sat up straight, but at least he did not move his legs.

I asked him his name again and he told me, My name is actually Werner. My parents named me after my grandfather, but everyone calls me Wern.

I told him my name and carefully removed the blanket from his legs. The moment I removed the dressing from the big wound, he saw the deep gash in his thigh.

Wern whispered with fear, Oh my God!

The wound looked a lot better to me. There was still blood seeping out of it, but it was no longer festering so badly. When I told him, The wound needs to be sewn together, he looked at me in shock.

After a brief moment he nodded his head, Yes, I saw my mother sewing together my brother’s deep cut in his foot. My father held him down and the poor boy screamed and cried out very loud. It has to hurt quite a lot.

I nodded my head and my mind wandered back to the time when I witnessed our healing woman sewing my cousin’s hand wound back together, after my cousin had hit it with an ax. How desperately she screamed through the whole procedure and long afterwards! We sat there in silence, not looking at each other. I asked him, Would you like to sew your big wound together?

He shook his head.

I was very afraid of that, but I had to help. I even started to shiver just thinking about sewing up his wound.

The bean soup started to cook and I stood up to check on it. My legs felt weak and wobbled, but they held me up all right. Pulling the pot back a little from the hottest part of the stove, so it would not boil over, I noticed a can standing on the nearby shelf with knitting needles sticking out of it. After I stirred the soup and placed the lid back on the pot, I walked over to the can to see if the mother kept her sewing items inside of it.

Sure enough, a few different size needles and a roll of white twine lay inside the can among different small parts of wool. I stood there staring at the can, wishing for a moment to never have stopped at this village. Then I became ashamed of myself, took the can and walked over to the young man.

He still sat up, staring at the deep gash in his leg. I set the can next to him and walked back to the stove to fetch some boiling saltwater.

Before I turned to walk back to him, the young man asked, Please bring my mom’s wooden ladle.

I fetched the ladle and walked back to him with fear racing through my whole body.

He greeted me with a pitiful smile and said, The soup smells great!

After I sat down next to him and placed the boiling water on the floor, he reached for my hand and said, This is what I think we need to do, I will sew my own wound together. If I pass out again, I like for you to sew the rest together.

I agreed to do so, fetched the twine and a sharp needle, and dropped both into the steaming hot saltwater. The young man took the wooden ladle, placed it inside his mouth and bit down hard at it. I fished the twine and the needle out of the water, pulled the twine through the needle and made a double knot on the long end. With a very shaking hand, I handed it to the also shaking man. We looked at each other for a second and then he squeezed his wound together with his left hand and with great power jammed the sharp needle through both layers of his skin. Wern let out a horrible scream and his teeth bit deep into the wooden ladle. For a brief moment his upper body became unsteady and I thought he would pass out again, but he did not. Wern took the needle and pulled it all the way through his flesh. Then he forced the needle through his skin again and passed out.

His head hit the pillow with a soft thump. Some blood seeped out of his mouth while the ladle fell out. My heart began to race in panic. I needed to fulfill my promise. With closed eyes, I screamed and begged for help. When I opened my wet eyes, my hands were steady and I felt like I had become someone else. Quickly I sewed Wern’s wound up with four more stitches. A slight piece of dead flesh hung out on the end of the wound and I automatically cut it off, as if I had done this before. After pouring a little of the still clean, hot seawater over the wound, I covered him back up and walked outside.

After desperately breathing in the cold, fresh air deeply for a while, I started to feel myself again. The almost quarter moon, shone down onto the silent earth with its silvery light. The four mangy dogs hovered close to the door of the house. Scared of something, they begged me to let them inside the house. The moment I opened the door, the dogs squeezed through it in a hurry. In the dim lamplight I saw them hurrying beneath one of the beds. The room felt warm, the bean soup smelled awfully good, and I felt great about accomplishing sewing up Wern’s wound.

One glance over toward him scared me greatly. He was desperately trying to stand up and blood leaked out of his deep wound. In a panic, I ran over to him, grabbed him by his shoulders and pushed him back down onto the ground. Quickly I took a rag, dipped in the rest of the hot seawater, rang it out and put some pressure on his deep wound to stop the bleeding.

Wern looked at me sadly and began to speak, I lay out there for three nights entangled in the barbwire, but had enough bullets in my pocket to chase the wolves away to keep them from killing the young cow inside the barn and the chickens inside their pen. My family cannot survive without these animals. I am out of bullets now. I need to go to the barn and do my best to scare the wolves away by screaming and throwing stones at them. Then he closed his eyes and tears ran out of them. That was only the second time in my life, I saw a man cry, and it moved me greatly.

I knew what I needed to do, to save the animals, from remembering what we had done on our island when the killer minks escaped from their enclosures. I rinsed the bloody rag out once more in the still warm salty water, handed it to the young man and taught him how much pressure to put on his wound. Then I simply, but strictly said, You better not move!

I figured that the most precious possession would likely be the young cow. I lit another oil lamp and walked out of the house and into the stall. There, in the middle of the stall stood the young cow tied to a strong wooden beam that supported the roof. She had plenty hay around her to feed on, but no water in her trough. I gently talked to her as I walked closer to her. She turned her head and moved her ears to pick up my sounds. When I stood next to her, she calmly looked at me with her deep, shiny eyes. I whispered to her and gently touched her nose. She licked my hand with her warm, rough tongue and I knew she would follow me. Slowly I took the rope from her neck and called, Come on cow. Without hesitating, she followed me all the way inside the house.

Wern sat up and looked at us in surprise. I figured I had better help him into a bed, before the cow stepped on him. He sort of crawled, without using his badly injured leg, to the corner of the room, near the beds. There I lifted his legs up and he pushed himself off the ground with both arms and one leg and fell into a bed. The young cow came close to him, licked his face and lay down next to him. I took a bucket of water to her. She stood back up began to drink.

Quickly, I walked back to the barn to fetch the chickens. They all huddled together in a corner, next to a barrel with a lid on it. When they saw me coming closer to them, they started to peck on the barrel. I hoped the barrel contained their food. I lifted the lid and happily discovered chicken feed inside. Since nobody had fed the chickens in days, it should be easy to have them follow me. I filled a bowl half-full, rattled it and called the chickens, just like my grandma used to do. To my delight, I had their attention. The rooster flew up on my arm to get some of the feed. I grabbed him with one hand and carried him under my arm. Slowly I walked out of the barn, rattling the feed and all the chickens followed me inside the house. There I poured the feed onto the dirt floor and the feathered flock hastily began to eat.

Wern laughed out loud and then he said, What a clever girl you are!

I asked, Is there anything else alive out in the stall?

Still chuckling he answered, Just the mice and rats. Then he asked, When is the soup ready? I am starving!

Glad he was hungry; I made myself busy in the kitchen part of the room, looking for bowls and utensils. I found two big mugs for the two of us to eat out of and four deep plates for the dogs. A drawer contained plenty utensils.

First, I pulled the soup pot all the way to the edge of the oven, stirred it well and fished out the fatback. Then I cut the fatback in little pieces and returned it to the soup pot. All four dogs sat underneath the kitchen table watching me with hungry eyes. Their noses moved busily, inhaling the fine smell of the soup. One more, good stir and my soup was ready. I filled one big mug and took it over to Wern. He gladly accepted the steaming soup with a smile and began to eat.

The low whimpers of the hungry dogs made me fix their plates next. A good portion of the by now soft fish on each plate and a ladle full of bean soup on top of it filled up each deep plate. While I waited for their food to cool before I gave it to them, I filled my big mug half full. The dogs stood next to me now, begging for food. Quickly and without spilling a drop, I set a dish in front of each dog. They slung down their food in no time and licked those dishes clean, before I managed to walk over to Wern to eat with him. It bothered me to see animals so hungry and I asked the young man, Don’t you feed these dogs enough?

He answered, Yes we do, but it has been four days since they ate, because I could not free myself of the barbwire.

Ashamed I had asked that question, I apologized. He just smiled and shyly handed me his empty mug. I refilled it and proudly handed the mug back to him.

After he ate that entire portion, he lay down, cuddled up and made ready to go to sleep, but I wanted to check his deep wound once more. Gently, I pulled his blanket back and looked at it. The wound, still swollen a lot, did not bleed any more. No pus dripped out of it either. I took a big, relieved breath. All the other smaller wounds had scabs on them. I covered him back up and wanted to tell him good night, but found him asleep already. The young cow, on the floor next to him, yawned, closed her eyes and put her head down.

Tired, I walked outside to the well to fetch a bucket of water to wash the dishes and refill the animal’s bowls. It was a completely silent night. The barn owls sat on the roof of the barn without making their usual calling sounds. No mice or rats scattered around, or fought over some precious morsel. Not a blade of grass moved. The quarter moon slipped behind a cloud and the almost completely dark night felt eerie.

Goose bumps crawled up my neck. I felt like someone watched me. I stopped walking and stood still, straining to listen into the silent night. Suddenly, I heard someone taking a breath—or had the wind whispered? A slight, crushing sound in the grass behind me scared me—or did it come from beside me?

The moment the moon lit the earth again, terror raced through me. There, in front of me, stood a huge timber wolf in all his glory and pride. He stared right trough me with his bright, golden eyes and held his tail up high. He had a thick, grayish coat and his ears stood up straight. He turned toward me. He looked sure of himself and in charge of the moment.

I stared back at him and silently begged God and Ola for help. He briefly looked away, was he unsure now? I heard the breathing of more wolves in the distance. My heart beat so fast that I thought it would explode any second. I wanted to run to the house, but something made me stand still and just stare at him. I wanted to move my hands up to become taller, but actually could not move a muscle. The big wolf looked behind him to his now restless pack. A black raven flew down from the barn right in front of him, spread out its wide wings and let out a shrill scream that made me shiver. The huge wolf turned, still with pride though, and disappeared with his pack into the eerie night.

My heart slowed down and I could move my body again. With sure steps, but somewhat out of my mind, I hurried into the farmhouse. While the oil lamp flickered and sucked out the last drops of fuel, I lay down on the first cot in the sleeping part of the old house. Still shaking, I crawled beneath the covers and cried with relief. I am not sure if the howls I heard that night came from wolves outside, or the ones in my scary dreams.

Three days later in the late afternoon, after I had the house all cleaned up once more, and the animals back outside, the family came home. The mom, father and five grown boys stopped. They looked surprised to see me standing at the well. The mother came over to me right away with a smile on her face and welcomed me with a warm hug.

The rest of the family walked inside the house. I told the mother, Wern had an accident; he is inside the house and can tell you all about it. She reached for my hand and together we walked into the humble house.

After all of us gathered around Wern, he told exactly what happen. Then he showed them his injuries. The mother stared at the big, swollen wound with fear. The whole area looked reddish, but the wound had a thin, dry scab on it and no longer oozed. Both, the mother and the father thanked me greatly and asked me to stay. The boys brought the newly purchased supplies inside the house and showed Wern the new members of the farm, a small goat and a half grown lamb.

I felt strange and walked outside. One of the older boys, actually a handsome grown man, led the fine horse team into the stall. He came back out with a bucket, walked pass me and smiled at me.

At the well, he filled his bucket with fresh water, stopped in front of me and said, Thank you for rescuing my brother and our livestock.

I smiled and nodded my head. A fresh breeze blew by as he walked away. I looked up to the sky, saw heavy, dark clouds moving in fast. A bunch of crows surging for shelter shattered away and flew into the barn. Perhaps I should spend the night here.

That evening the mother of the house served up an excellent pork stew with potatoes and green beans. Then came a great surprise, she brought a tall, yellow cake over to the table and a jar of strawberry preserve. The mother lifted her finger to her mouth and everyone stopped talking.

Then she looked at me and said, All of us thank you a thousand times for rescuing Wern!

I knew it came from her heart, her shaky voice told me so. Many thanks echoed through the room. It embarrassed me somewhat, but felt good. While the mother cut the cake, put a heaping spoon full of strawberry preserve on top of each slice, the oldest of the boys brought me the first piece of the fine looking cake and took the next piece to Wern, who was still on bed rest.

I looked at Wern and he smiled at me.

The mother noticed it, smiled and said Edy if you like to, go over and sit with Wern to eat your cake.

Unsure if it was appropriate, I hesitated and looked at the mom. She nodded her head and I gladly walked over to Wern with my cake. He wiggled aside and I sat down next to him. The cake tasted delicious and I felt comfortable sitting next to Wern. We had become friends over the last four days. The older boys and their father started to talk about the chores that they needed to take care of the next day. After the younger boys finished their cake, their mother sent them to bed. She then poured hot water into a bowl to wash the dishes. I walked over to her and offered my help. She gladly handed me a towel to dry the dishes. Two small plates still stood at the table. Each had a fine piece of cake on it and a big helping of strawberry preserve. I wondered who deserved another helping of this fine looking treat. I surely would have liked to have one of those desserts, but I knew better than to ask for it.

After we did the dishes, the mother looked at me happily and said, Grab one of those cake plates and let’s walk over to the barn for a little privacy.

Excited, I helped myself. While we walked, I figured she would show me where to sleep in the barn, so the wolves could not hurt me.

Inside the barn, she lit an oil lamp, even though intense lightning lit the barn fairly well. We sat down on a straw bale, still able to look outside, watching the fierce, but beautiful display. We ate our cake in silence and I felt like she had something important to tell, or ask of me.

By the first soft hoot of a barn owl, she said, Edy, I’d like you to stay with us and marry one of my older boys. All three of them need a wife. Then they would have a reason to leave home and build their own place, which I am looking forward to. We have plenty of land for everyone. They are hard working, but gentle men. I raised them to be honest and loving, to respect women and their wishes and honor God. You choose any one of them and I will be very glad to stand by your side and teach you how to handle your man. Our road preacher will stop by here in a month or so, on his way to the town of Heiligenhaven.

Completely flabbergasted, I choked on the last piece of cake I was about to swallow.

After a lot of coughing I told the woman my dreams, I’d like to go to the Berliner University to become a veterinarian. Then I’d like to go back to my island and help all the animals in need.

The mother smiled, What fine dreams you have girl! Yes, I had fine dreams too once. I wanted to work on one of those big ships and see the whole, wide world. My parents explained to me that only boys and men worked on those ships. Then, at an early age, I married my husband. He is a fine man, but I still dream about sailing around the world. She wiped her eyes with the end of her apron and said, Come on girl, let’s get you bedded down inside the house and please stay as long, as you would like to.

The moment we stood up, low rolling thunder crashed down and the first, big raindrops hit down hard on the metal roof. It sounded like someone dumped big buckets full of pebbles down on us. While the wind moaned eerily through the barn and rattled some loose siding, the two of us took off running toward the house. Someone opened the door and we raced inside, laughing and shaking the raindrops off our hair and clothing. Still laughing, we walked over to the window and watched the driving rain.

She gave me a hug and said, I like you a lot, call me Else.

I looked up to her, nodded my head and smiled. Then she took the oldest boy’s cot and pulled it next to Wern’s cot.

She pointed at the cot and told me, Good night girl.

The oldest boy took the big rifle, loaded it and walked to the barn with a thick blanket over his arm. I guessed it must be his turn to watch the livestock.

Slowly, the lightning storm moved on. When everyone lay in their beds, or cots and the oil lamps showed their last flicker, Wern reached over and gave me a shy kiss on my cheek.

He whispered in my ear, May God be with you always. Please come back some day!"

That was my first ‘real’ kiss from a boy in my young life and I did not know how to react to it. It sure stirred something up inside of me and it took me a long time to go to sleep. I reached over to touch him, but too afraid, to do so, I retrieved my arm. That night I dreamed I grew big, black wings and flew to Berlin.

The rooster’s shrill good morning call awoke all of us inside the house. The boys and men quickly dressed and walked outside.

After one look at Wern’s wound, his mom declared, You can get out of bed, but take it real easy, my boy!

Else began to stir the fire and placed wood into the big stove. Soon I heard the fire roaring and meat sizzling in the frying pan.

She called me over to her side and with a hopeful smile asked, Are you going to stay with us?

Slowly, I shook my head and answered, No, I am leaving right now.

Her hopeful smile disappeared from her face and she asked, Please stay for breakfast.

I happily agreed to do so.

While I gathered my few belongings, the young boys came inside with a basketful of fresh eggs and handed them to their mother. I walked back over to her and asked her, Can I be of help?

Sure, she said, handed me a loaf of bread and a big knife.

One of the younger boys set the table and the other one stood watching his mom cracking the eggs on the end of the pan and slowly with one hand, pulling the shells apart, while the eggs slid into the hot grease. He tried to make the same sound, as the eggs made, when they slipped into the hot grease, but he sounded more as if he tried to whistle. It made me laugh a little. Soon, Else finished cooking breakfast.

She handed me the pan with the hot meat and asked, Please place one piece on each plate.

I did not know what kind of meat it was, but it smelled great. The mother placed different amounts of eggs onto each plate. I followed her around the table with the meat and one of the young boys laid a piece of bread onto each plate.

The other boy ran outside and hollered with all the strength he had, Breakfast is ready!

The door opened quickly and in came all the big male members of the family and the dogs. Everyone sat in the same place, as the night before. One very short prayer and the feast began. I could barely believe how much food these people had to eat. On each of the grownups plates, laid four eggs, meat and bread, even on my plate, and that for breakfast! At my home, we were lucky to have just a slice of bread for each of us in the mornings; sometimes there was only hot tea. This must be a rich family.

When the noise of clattering tableware ended Else said, Young Edy is leaving us this morning. Let us all thank her for her braveness one more time.

Thank you echoed through the house again.

After it became silent the father stood up, looked at me, cleared his throat and spoke, Girl, if you cannot find your dream out there in this world, please come back. There will always be a place for you in our house.

Embarrassed by all the attention, I looked down at the table, but it sure felt good to be thanked. In silence I stood up and walked over to the cot, I had slept on, to fetch my bundle. When I bent down to pick it up, I quickly wiped a few tears out of my eyes. Then I stood up with my bundle in my hand and with a sure voice said, Thank you very much and may God bless all of you! Unable to look back without letting them see my tears, I walked out of the house, but not without leaving a little piece of my heart behind.

A fresh, damp morning greeted me and the sun started to warm the earth as I walked back down toward the sea.

When I entered the thick pine forest, I decided to follow the railroad tracks to the town of Heiligenhaven. By the time I reached the middle of the forest and the tracks, it was still very dark and the pack of timber wolves came walking through my mind. Scared, I quickly ran through to the dark forest. After I almost reached the beach, my heart quit racing so fast and I suddenly realized my bundle, on my shoulder, seemed much heavier, than when I reached the farmhouse some days ago. I wondered why, but remained too scared