Christmastime 1945: A Love Story

Late that night, Ursula stood at her bedroom window gazing down into the farmyard. No more would she search for Friedrich’s handsome face out there. No more would there be a chance of his arriving to the farm. Now when she looked out the windows, she would see only the farmyard, the fields. They would no longer hold the possibility that her beloved might suddenly appear and raise his eyes to her window.

She lifted the corner of her shawl to wipe her eyes. She looked out at the emptiness and sought out the points of lights in the darkness. The light over the barn door casting a yellow patch in the farmyard. A few lights from the neighboring farms across the fields. Headlights from a lone car or truck traveling the country roads. In the distance, she saw the tiny lights of a train threading its way through the countryside, and heard the long, plaintive pull of the whistle.