The Precious Bundle | Teen Ink

The Precious Bundle

April 16, 2015
By Anonymous

“You evil wicked man!” her cries swirled through the air like a swarm of relentless, menacing bees, whose buzzing would never fade. “No!” her sobs had pierced the chilly, and unusually quiet cobblestone street. “Not my daughter! My baby- no! You monster, don’t you feel even one drop of sympathy for an innocent baby, or is your heart a sealed wall?”
I would never forget those screams, that entreaty, and I knew the memory of them would haunt me for years to come. Sealed walls were not what my heart was made of, but a maze of secret cracks, and weak foundations. Oh why couldn’t I have reassured her, explained my barbaric- looking actions? I forcibly shoved my harrowing guilty conscience aside and concentrated on the task at hand. It seemed only moments ago, that I had committed the crucial deed. For her cries were still clear, the desperation in her voice, almost forcing me to turn back. Yet I knew I had to control my thoughts, those painful recollections, and not let myself fall prey to them, as many a coward man had done before me. There was no time for regrets; second thoughts and remorse… deep down I knew it was a heroic deed, one that would later be awed by many. I knew with complete certainty, be it in life or death, one day that mother would thank me. As I trekked further, deeper underground, the air grew chilly and moist. I could almost taste the tension, the mocking, pudding-like air, full of past dreams, painful acts, and gallant activities. Each step, each ragged intake of breath brought on crashing, monstrous waves of noise, as they echoed and reverberated through the narrow tunnel. The SS uniform I wore still felt strange, almost purposely unfitting to clothe the body of a man whose wish was not to commit murder. The bongo drum that beat inside of me, danced a jig, yet I trudged on. Every heavy footstep ushered in a new surge of doubt, a twinge of regret, an added prayer. In those precious few moments, I gave it my all, and prayed for the innocent bundle in my arms. Closer and closer- I began to run, anxious to be done with my task, eager to be gone from this frightful decision. Your baby will live; she’s safe with me!  I focused every muscle and nerve in my mind, into somehow passing on that message to the oblivious woman, through the mysterious mists of time and space. How I wished to have yelled them, or even to have whispered them into her ear, into all the ears of those precious women I had pained! Yet, instead I had remained mute, unreservedly mute, even when their cries threatened to drown me, to pull me under with their life altering strength, while I yanked the baby right out of their arms. For I knew, this child’s mother would be dead when the sun would rise, having been gassed to her demise, assessing with certainty, that her baby would be in heaven to greet her.
Soon, I would have to discontinue this mammoth task, for I knew my heart wouldn’t be able to withstand it for much longer. I had been trained to become void of human heart, to be rid of sensitivity, and emotion. Yet, I knew that with time, perhaps sooner then I thought, arising each morning and beginning my task once more, would not be as “easy”, would not even be a possibility. A World War was raging and thundering out there, but inside me, a battle so intense and so utterly strong, ensued.
Only when I saw the first few streaks of silver track imbedded in the dirt, did I allow my pace to slow. My bundle, still limp, lay cradled in my embrace. I envied her drugged sleep that ensured her silence throughout the journey- her absence of knowledge and innocent trust. My spirit still plagued me, yet my intellect fought back. Though I had journeyed for only forty minutes, when I reached my destination, it could’ve easily been months. One lone man, a comrade stood before me. Ever so silently, I nodded my head in greeting. A worn out train car stood forlorn behind him, waiting for its next dangerous journey. Just this once, I allowed myself one last look at the precious infant. I peered into the face of a child who would grow up without parents, who would lead a difficult life, who would face obstacles, many wouldn’t be able to conjure. Then ever so gently, I placed her in his arms. I watched him carry her through the arched doorway, and then in seconds he was gone. The door creaked to a close, was securely latched, and with a sudden puff of smoke, lurched forward and began its journey. I waited until its light shined through the tunnel no more, and then I turned back. Yes, she would lead a harsh life, one full of confusing questions, and probably few answers, yet I knew because of my heroic act, my painful, and yet so brilliantly astonishing deed, she would live.


The author's comments:

This piece is an excerpt that i wrote in reflecting upon World War 2 and specifically, the Holocaust. During the Holocaust, many Jews knowing their end was near, with ultimate sacrifice, gave their children (under the age of 17), over to an underground organization that would aid in smuggling them out of dangerous territoryto Great Brittain. This excerpt focuses on the thoughts of one such man who is part of the "Kinder Transport" as that organization was called, and who had the job of smuggling infants to safety - such as this little girl. 


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HCS123 BRONZE said...
on May. 27 2015 at 7:15 pm
HCS123 BRONZE, NY, New York
1 article 0 photos 1 comment
thank you :)

on May. 27 2015 at 10:55 am
Mekayla lynn SILVER, Sterling, Illinois
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Favorite Quote:
You Have Two Lives, The One You're Given And The One You Make.
Pray the hardest when it's the hardest to pray.

i love this!