Free From Dust and Ashes by Tricia Goyer

each other in low voices. It was not he or the fragile girl who drew their attention, but Helene. Many, Peter noticed, cast hateful glares in her direction. He was sure he knew why. She was helping while they refused. She dared to enter the camps. She was making a difference.
    Too bad the town doesn’t have more like her. People of character. People who stand up for what’s right .

    Helene hurried along the narrow lane leading to the small farmhouse on the edge of town. Her shoulders ached, her feet were sore and swollen, but she still had one more task. She had to pick up Anika from the farm where Katharina now stayed.
    She was late, but it couldn’t be helped. The women from the camp had needed much attention. After bringing Lelia to the house, Helene had bathed both women and dressed them in her old nightgowns. Her father worked with her. And as she washed each one, he gently deloused the other. Helene marveled at the way he’d performed the task without causing them embarrassment or shame. After applying a powder to kill the hundreds of lice, her father had sat there picking them off, telling stories of his childhood as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
    The American had returned after his evening meal and carried the women to beds in a guest room across the hall from Helene’s bedroom. He brought leftovers with him. Ham and potatoes for Helene and her father, and watery soup for the others’ tender stomachs.
    With a clean body and full belly, Michaela had beamed appreciatively as her head rested on the pillow. Lelia, on the other hand, worried Helene. The girl, whom she now knew was seventeen, had simply stared blankly, not once moving of her own volition. Does Lelia even realize she’s free? Can she understand what’s happening?
    Helene’s father had agreed to stay with the women while she retrieved Anika, and even offered to keep watch over them through the night. Helene had gratefully accepted his assistance.
    Now the sun had set. The American GI had offered to accompany Helene to get Anika, but she’d refused. He hadn’t asked any questions about Helene’s life, and she liked it that way. She was certain he’d hate her if he knew. Perhaps he might even find a way to bring charges against her.
    As she approached the farmhouse, Helene rubbed her arms, willing the strength for one more task. She spotted a lantern still burning inside Frau Schulmacher’s kitchen window. Hopefully someone was still awake.
    Helene approached the small stoop and tapped on the door. It cracked slightly. “Go away,” the old woman screeched.
    Helene stepped back, startled. “Frau Schulmacher, it’s me, Helene Völkner. I’m here for my daughter, Anika.” She heard movement behind the door, as if a large piece of furniture was being pushed out of the way. Then the door swung open, revealing the two women, Katharina’s three small boys, and Anika all huddled around the small kitchen.
    “Get in here, girl. Are you crazy?” The woman pulled Helene’s arm, quickly shutting the door behind her. “What are you doing out on a night such as this?”
    Helene stared at Katharina, silently begging for an explanation.
    “It’s been horrible.” Katharina pulled Helene into the living room, out of earshot of the children. “Prisoners showed up earlier looking for food,” she whispered. “They swarmed the place, and we were afraid they’d hurt us. They were so horrible, so grotesque! I can’t wait to leave.”
    “Leave?” Helene wrapped an arm around her friend’s trembling shoulders. The light from the kitchen cast shadows into the dim room. “Where are you going?”
    “I have received news from Mother and Father. They’re sending my older brothers to get the boys and me. They’ve been living in the countryside in France. Things are better there, they say. Father has connections with the government, you know. He pulled some strings, and he said you could come with us. We’ll be safe, Helene. We can