Facing the Lion. Simone Arnold-Liebster
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Название: Facing the Lion
Автор: Simone Arnold-Liebster
Издательство: Автор
Жанр: Биографии и Мемуары
isbn: 9782879531397
isbn:
Then someone else shouted, “You don’t go to church anymore!”
Another one screamed, “You don’t attend catechism!”
Still another yelled, “You’ve become a Communist!”
I stood all alone on top of the steps and shouted, “I am a Christian!” This made them mad.
“Then tell us why you do not attend catechism!”
I had read in the Bible that God does not live in man-made houses. So I pointed to the church and said, “God cannot be in there because it’s full of idols, which have eyes but cannot see and ears but cannot hear, and God forbade us to have such idols in the second commandment and . . . ” I stopped short and all the children were silenced when suddenly, we heard somebody clapping hands. Across the street, in an expensive villa, a finely dressed lady got the children’s attention.
“Let her go. Don’t you see she has a devil’s face coming out of hell? Escape, she is dangerous!”
Immediately one ran away in fear, screaming, “Run! Run!” Soon the others followed, even Blanche, Madeleine, and Andrée. I was left alone. I turned around and saw Mademoiselle standing in the hall—stiff, cold, and silent.
When I got to the corner of the street, another smaller group of children confronted me. Some of the boys jumped at me, circling around me like bees swarming around candy and calling me “dirty Jew, dirty Jew.”
Why do they call me a Jew, and why dirty? I wasn’t either one! Passersby finally chased the children away.
Mother’s Bible reading in one of the Gospels was about persecution, hatred, and insults. I felt confident in my beliefs that came from the Bible. But I wanted to know, “Why dirty Jew?” Our butcher was Jewish, and he was very clean. Mother liked him because he was honest and kind. I felt terrible about the accusation without understanding why.
Sitting on my father’s lap, and listening to my mother reading the Bible to me, I learned the meaning of this expression. At the table one day they explained, “As you learn more about history, you’ll find out that so-called Christians wouldn’t let the Jews have jobs as craftsmen or similar work. They were kept in special sections of town, being accused of killing God.”
“I knew that. The priest told us about it.”
“But God never came to earth to be killed by men. How could the Almighty, the Source of Life, be murdered? He does not punish by evil. He doesn’t make a distinction between races, colors, rich or poor, because Jehovah is not unjust. He is love. Those who do not follow this teaching are under the power of evil and can do and say bad things, thinking they are right.”
Little by little, the children tired of chasing me on the street. I had told them that Jesus, the son of God, was a Jew, and being called a Jew is an honorable statement. I was proud of it; all of the apostles and Bible writers had been Jews and I wanted to follow them.
SPRING 1938
Spring had spread flowers over the land just like the blue and pink and yellow dots on my new wallpaper. Mum and I went up to Bergenbach while John wallpapered my room. Dad would come up on weekends. When Uncle Alfred arrived, another verbal table war about French and German ideologies again spoiled the family’s noon gathering.
Another argument, this time a religious one, broke out in the afternoon. The men had gone out for a walk, while the women stayed behind talking. I had a hard time understanding what was going on.
What was Grandma talking about? Then Aunt Valentine said, “The Bible is a Protestant book.” Mother showed her the Catholic cardinal’s signature in the front of the Bible. Aunt Valentine replied, “Anyone can sign anything!”
Aunt Eugenie added: “We Catholics have the Gospel, not the Bible!” Mum tried to show them that the Gospels are in the Bible, but no one wanted to see.
“Get that Protestant book out of here.”
“But it’s accepted by the church.” I felt I had to step in.
“Grandma, the priest has the same Bible.”
“He has the right to have anything, to read everything.” Looking at us she insisted, “You are my daughter, and you had better stay Catholic if you want to keep up a good family relationship!”
The men had come back, still talking about that mysterious word Lebensraum[6] that had started the men’s verbal war around the table. When Dad overheard the women fighting about religion, he said, “I’d better take the next train and go back home. I don’t like the inquisition spirit.” And he left us in that “wasps’ nest,” as he would call any argument. Mum and I stayed a few days longer.
A few days before Easter, Mum and I went up to Bergenbach for spring cleaning. Grandma decided to get her yearly baby pig and to exchange some eggs to introduce new “blood” into her farm stock.
We climbed to the top of the mountain. The sun was shining brightly. Grandma called it “a biting sun” and, according to Grandma, the cloud formations foretold a change of weather. At the end of our two-hour walk, we ended up in a small, serene green valley with only a few big farmhouses. At the end of the valley was a mountain bluff named Felleringenkopf (after the village), our favorite place to search for blueberries. It was a great relief to finally reach the place called Langenbach.
During our journey Grandma insisted, “Bring your mother back to church; she will bring evil upon the whole family.”
“But the Bible is not a bad book.”
“The Devil wants you to go out of the church; he wants your soul! He will send you right down to hell.”
“There is no hell. And I don’t have a separate soul—I am a soul.”
“This is exactly what the Devil does. He takes away the fear of hell, and he will bring you right into it.” She told me some scary stories about how charming the Devil could appear and how he could even act as a lure.
Grandma’s cousin was happy to get some news from the other side of the valley. Some money and eggs exchanged hands, and we went to look for the baby pig. The nice little pink animals were running around. We chased a squirmy little thing and tied its legs despite its grunting protests. We put it in a sack that hung around Grandma’s neck. Her cousin pointed to a tiny cloud and said, “You’d better go.”
A small cloud above the mountain grew very fast. By the time we reached the top, we both were sweating. Grandma’s pace was so rapid that I had a hard time keeping up. As soon as we reached the Thalhorn, the promontory from which we could see both valleys, a terrible cold wind caught us. Grandma said, “Let’s run so we don’t catch a cold in the lungs!”
In front of us, a big brown cloud was coming straight toward us. Soon the entire valley was hidden, СКАЧАТЬ