All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Little Wet Tears
It started as a little wet tear then a rainfall. I was laying down looking out the door. It was a shade of dark gray. My home was in the cold, damp basement of my friend’s house.
I got up on my feet and started to walk to the sturdy wood door. The door opened and a sweet cool breeze blew
in my face. My red pigtails bounced while I skipped into a huge field of tall grass and wildflowers. Suddenly I stop in a patch in the field that was flattened by the rain. I stood there in silence hearing gunshots in the distance.
A scream came from behind me saying,” Halt!” My heart skipped a beat. I slowly turned around to see a German Soldier standing before me. I quickly wipe my little wet tears off my face.
We were in the middle of World War II. The Nazis took over the coast of Normandy, France. They were moving towards Paris, the capital of France.
Hitler took over Amsterdam, Norway, Denmark, Poland, Belgium, the Netherlands and now France. Luckily America, the United Kingdom and Canada were here
to fight the Germans to their graves. Hitler was going to lose. The Japanese and Italy allied with Germany and they were going to go down too.
My best friend was Italian but not Jewish like I was. She had lived in France most of her life. She helped me in a bunch of ways most of all letting me stay in her basement. Her name was Roberta. She was against the Nazis and
Wanted them out of France.
The German soldier walked closer and closer saying nothing to me. He then spoke asking me "Why you running?" in a harsh
I replied" I'm not running, just enjoying the rain."
"Well you need to be more careful." "What’s your name?"
"My name is Emma."
"Emma?" said the soldier with a questioning look on his face. "What is you last name?" he had tears forming in his eyes.
" Emma Hanson,” I replied. I asked him why are you crying?
" You are my Sister. I am sorry I never told you."
"What this can't be happening. My mother never mentioned you in all the stories she told me."
"Well I know you must be upset."
"I'm not upset. It’s just very weird that no one told me about you."
" I know why they didn't tell you about me, because mother was mad at me because when she was pregnant with you when we were living in Germany and I got drafted into the German army. They sent me to France and your mother moved there thinking that she would find me and she did. Since then we have been working together against the German army.
" Ok, I have to go home," I said as I turned nervously walking away.
"Wait, are you going to be home at midnight on Saturday?" he asked but I didn’t hear.
I walked home drenched in little wet tears. When I entered the basement of Roberta's house; my mother was they’re looking at me with a questioning look upon her face.
I just ran in the corner of the basement were I slept. My head was pounding of fear and thoughts. I fell asleep and woke up to a noise of a door opening. I crept out of bed to get my
mother. "mother," I whispered in her ear. She turned over and opened her eyes. "What's wrong dear?" she asked.
"Well I hear someone outside the door in the living room."
"Go out there and see who it is dear."
"Right, I will do."
I walked out there and looked around the room. It was pitch black in room so it was hard to make out anything. I turned around and saw someone standing there; I couldn't make him out. Then I was just about to run when I felt a hand on my shoulder stop me in my tracks. I shouted so loud it could have waked up the whole world. Instantly a, hand covered my mouth.
"Hush hush now, it's me your brother."
I fell down to the ground with tears in my eyes. He said to me, "Look at me." I took one look into his eyes and he helped me up to my feet. Roberta and my mother ran out as fast as lighting.
" Are you ok?” Roberta asked.
" Yes", I replied with a sigh.
My mother asked him what he was doing here. I was upset to see my mother get so upset at him. I told my mother "Wow, Mom it was not his fault that he got drafted. I don't understand
why your so mad at him." I ran out the front door and ran to the field were I met my long lost brother. When I turned around I could see that my brother ran after me. It was dark out side but in the distance
I could see explosions going of in the east. I knew that the Americans, Canadian and the British troop were moving in around Paris. He walked over to me and looked strait into my eyes and said
"Sorry Emma I have to move more north and help the resistance group Of the Soviet Union. They need me more then France. France is almost under control. So it's time for me to move on and help
" But you could just stay here with us and not go anywhere."
" I have to Emma you understand that. It will help the war to go faster."
" What if you get caught?"
" What if. Emma look, If I get caught I'll be killed I know but at least I died with honor."
" Yes I guess, but why do you have to go so soon."
" Well your mother is very mad at me. The Soviet Union needs me more because the Germans are moving up there and they are threatening Moscow."
I stepped away from him and thought and then I ran into his arms. We hugged for five whole minutes. I didn't want to let go but I had to. He said, " I'll see you when the war is over."
We both walked in opposite into the dark.
Two months later, on 1944 the Germans were out of France and we were back to normal. But up north the war was coming to a close while the Soviet Union was fighting back. Luckily they had their winter, which was very harsh and the Germans were losing food and people. We got a couple letters from my brother saying that he was doing vary well and he was going to be back in France next week. I was so vary happy I ran to the same field that I met him at and thought about the past and his face, looking forward to him coming home
The week went really fast. I was doing laundry when two French soldiers with a letter asked if I was Emma Hanson. I said, "Yes I am, why?"
"Here is a letter from Paris", said one of the soldiers. I opened it and all it said was:
3 Rue Laure
November 2, 1944
Dear, E. Henson & W. Henson:
I am writing to inform you of your son's current status. We have been notified that your son Peter Hanson has been caught by the Germans and is in the jail in Auschwitz in Poland. We also have been informed that he will be put to death tonight, November 4, 1944.
The Resistance Group of France, respected the great deeds he did for
our country and honor him with an award, There will a statue in front of the
President’s House honoring him and all the others who died for the cause.
Sincerely; (The French Resistance Group)