We Were the Lucky Ones

by Georgia Hunter

promising that he would return home when he graduated. But as soon as he’d left behind the provincial confines of Radom, a whole new life opened up for him.

Home is home—we’ll be here.

“Don’t you just love the smell of pine in the wintertime?”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Mila. It’s not what you thought it would be, but that’s to be expected. With children it’s never what you think it’s going to be.”

“In the midst of this happy occasion,” Yoffe says, righting himself, “we should not forget how fragile life truly is.

“I would like to add that, even in the darkness, I see your love. Inside, you are full, and through your eyes, it shines.”

The villagers there have been warned of your arrival. They want nothing to do with you. This,” he barked, pointing at the ground, “is your new home. You will work here, you will live here; you will never again see Poland.”

“Me, too. Shall we tempt the fate, as the Americans say?” Addy smiles,

It feels good to converse like this, in a way that they might have before their worlds were turned upside down.

“I miss my friend Lorena. I could tell her anything. I suppose I still do in my letters, but it’s not the same in writing.”