With Holocaust Remembrance Day passing recently, I thought I would share a short story I had written some time ago about a love story from the two different sides of the issue. Enjoy the story, and take a moment to remember those who suffered so terribly.

She watched by the window as she saw the smoke rise. The tears bordered her eyes again, though she knew he was not in it. For he was strong. She watched as the smoke rose to the clouds, as it did every so often. And her heart yearned for him. Leaving the window and wiping her tears away, she walked down the stairs of the family home. Her mother stood at the stove while a man sat peeling many red potatoes. She blinked away another brewing tear. She grabbed, quickly grabbed, the basket used for picking wild berries. As she walked through the threshold into the wilderness, she felt herself go free. She focused on each dear step as she walked through the forest path she had worn by herself. Her feet walked as though they kissed the earth. She made it to the place where the berries were picked and filled her basket with the bounty of a holiday. And, as she ran again, each precious step would kiss. She ran through the forest as if it were a rainbow; the trees and moss and ferns went from a full and luscious green to a deadened, pale green, even yellow. Smoke has that effect on a living creature. In her view, she saw the fence that could not hold feelings. And she saw him. He sat at the edge of the land, staring, as if at nothing and everything all at the same time. When he heard the rustles of the forest, his eyes refocused to behold the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. And she loved him. She rushed to the fence with joy and sadness, as a young child greets an injured puppy. They spoke of nothing, for the safety of the other was enough to stop the words. He extended his thinning palm through the chain linked fence to have it filled with the berries he so rarely saw, yet so greatly desired. He looked at them and saw their beautiful harmony between warm and cold colors. The red of the strawberries and the blues and purples of the blackberries and blueberries. He saw that it was like them. Then there came the dreaded time when they knew she must leave. And she ran back into the forest. He watched with loving eyes as he saw each step kiss the earth.