{"id":2905,"date":"2017-05-19T11:08:10","date_gmt":"2017-05-19T11:08:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.theprodigalpig.com\/?p=2905"},"modified":"2017-05-19T13:07:51","modified_gmt":"2017-05-19T13:07:51","slug":"the-girl-with-the-apple","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.theprodigalpig.com\/?p=2905","title":{"rendered":"The Girl With the Apple"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Me:\u00a0 That is a good looking apple!<\/p>\n

Prodigal:\u00a0 Yes, I plan to enjoy it.<\/p>\n

Me:\u00a0 I hope you enjoy this story about an apple too!<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It is bitter cold on this dark, winter day in 1944.\u00a0 But it is no different than any other day in the Nazi concentration camp.\u00a0 Back and forth I pace, trying to keep my emaciated body warm.\u00a0 I am just a boy, and hungry.\u00a0 I have been hungry for longer than I want to remember.\u00a0 Edible food seems like a dream.\u00a0 Each day, as more of us disappear, the happy past seems also like a dream, and I sink deeper into despair.<\/p>\n

Suddenly, I see something moving in the field beyond the camp’s two barbed wire fences.\u00a0 Families are working in the field; near the outer fence is a young girl.\u00a0 With an eye out for the guards, I hurry to the inside fence.<\/p>\n

The girl stops working and looks at me with sad eyes-eyes that seem to say she understands.\u00a0 I ask, across twenty feet and two fences, if she has something to eat.\u00a0 She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a red apple.\u00a0 A beautiful, shiny red apply.\u00a0 She looks to the left and to the right and then with a smile of triumph, throws the apple over the fences.\u00a0 I pick it up, holding it in trembling, frozen fingers, then run away as fast as I can.\u00a0 If the guards see us, we will both be shot.<\/p>\n

The next day, I cannot help myself-I am drawn at the same time to that spot near the fences.\u00a0 Am I crazy for hoping she will come again?\u00a0 Of course.\u00a0 But in here, I cling to any tiny scrap of hope.<\/p>\n

She comes.\u00a0 And again, she brings an apple, flinging it over the fences with that same sweet smile.\u00a0 This time I catch it and hold it up for her to see.\u00a0 Her eyes twinkle.\u00a0 And for the first time in so long, I feel my heart move with emotion.<\/p>\n

For seven months we meet like this.\u00a0 Sometimes we exchange a few words.\u00a0 Sometimes, just an apple.\u00a0 But she is feeding more than my belly, this angel from heaven.\u00a0 She is feeding my soul.\u00a0 And somehow, I know I am feeding hers as well.<\/p>\n

One day I hear frightening news:\u00a0 We are being shipped to another camp.\u00a0 The next day when I greet her, my heart is breaking.\u00a0 I can barely speak.\u00a0 “Do not bring me an apple tomorrow,”\u00a0 I say.\u00a0 “I am being sent to another camp.\u00a0 We will never see each other again.”\u00a0 Turning before I lose all control, I run away.\u00a0 I cannot bear to look back.\u00a0 If\u00a0I did, I know she would see tears streaming down my face.<\/p>\n

Months pass, and the nightmare continues.\u00a0 Only the memory of this girl sustains me.\u00a0 And then one day, just like that , the nightmare is over.\u00a0 The war has ended.\u00a0 Those of us still alive are freed.\u00a0 I have lost everything precious to me, including my family.\u00a0 But I still have the memory of the girl, a memory I carry in my heart as I move to American to start a new life.<\/p>\n

The years go by.\u00a0 It is 1957.\u00a0 I live in New York City.\u00a0 A friend convinces me to go on a blind date with a lady friend of his.\u00a0 Reluctantly, I agree.\u00a0 But she is nice, this woman named Roma.\u00a0 And like me, she is an immigrant, so we have at least that in common.<\/p>\n

“Where were you during the war?\u00a0 Roma asks me gently, in that delicate way immigrants ask one another such questions.<\/p>\n

“I was in a concentration camp in Germany, “I reply.<\/p>\n

Roma gets a faraway look in her eyes.<\/p>\n

“What is it?”\u00a0 I ask.<\/p>\n

“I am just thinking about something form my past, Herman,”\u00a0 Roma explains in a voice suddenly very soft.\u00a0 “You see, when I was a young girl, I lived near a concentration camp.\u00a0 There was a boy there, a prisoner, and for a long while, I used to visit him every day.\u00a0 I remember I used to bring him apples.\u00a0 I would throw the apple over the fence, and he would be so happy.”<\/p>\n

Roma sighs heavily and continues.\u00a0 “It is hard to describe how we felt about each other–after all, we were so young, and we only exchanged a few words when we could–but I can tell you, there was much love there.\u00a0 I assume he was killed like so many others.\u00a0 But I cannot bear to think that, and so I try to remember him as he was for those months we were given together.”<\/p>\n

With my heart pounding so hard I think it will explode, I look directly at Roma and ask, “And did that boy say to you one day, “Do not bring an apple tomorrow.\u00a0 I am being sent to another camp.?”<\/p>\n

“Why, yes,” Roma responds, her voice trembling, “But Herman, how on earth could you possibly know that?”<\/p>\n

I take her hands in mine and answer, “Because I was that young boy, Roma.”<\/p>\n

For many moments, there is only silence.\u00a0 We cannot take our eyes from each other as we recognize the soul behind the eyes, the dear friend we once loved so much, whom we have never stopped loving.<\/p>\n

Finally, I speak:\u00a0 “Roma, I was separated from you once, and I don’t ever want to be separated from you again.\u00a0 Now I am free, and I want to be together with you forever.\u00a0 Dear, will you marry me?”<\/p>\n

I see that twinkle in her eye I used to see as Roma says, “Yes, I will marry you.”\u00a0 We embrace-the embrace we longed to share for so many months, but barbed wire came between us.\u00a0 Now, nothing ever will again.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the story of Herman and Roma Rosenblat<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Mark 9:50<\/p>\n

Be at peace with each other<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Jennifer Van Allen<\/p>\n

www.theprodigalpig.com<\/p>\n

www.faithincounseling.org<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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