"My name is Magerman. This store was opened by my husband and me. This is our home and the only way our family can make a living. It used to be."
The middle-aged woman in an apron finally put down the trembling wooden stick in her hand, accepted Jill's suggestion and chose to sit down and have a good talk, or "help each other". At least she got a brief interview.
Later, the promise of adding more food to the bakery, which had nothing edible left, was exactly what her children needed most right now.
"Mom, I'm hungry. You promised we would have something to eat today."
Not long after Jill and Mary sat down with Ms. Magerman, before they had time to get to the point, a little boy who must have looked no more than ten years old came from the back room and came to his dearest mother and told him
own hunger and troubles.
"Child, didn't I ask you to stay with your sister? Where is your sister?"
The little boy had an obvious and instinctive fear of strangers, and he just hid behind his mother and spoke in a timid whisper.
"My sister is asleep, but I can't sleep. Mom, I'm so hungry."
"."
The child's tender words echoed in the ears of everyone in the room. Jill and Mary didn't know what to say for a moment, but Magerman, as a mother, was at a loss. She couldn't answer at all and could only feel heartbroken.
He hugged his child and burst into tears, trying not to cry.
Except for the feeble promises she had made over and over again, she really had nothing to give her children. As a mother, she had never hated her own incompetence so much, but she was so helpless and powerless.
.
"It's going to be okay, kid. Everything is going to be okay, my baby."
The mother who hugged the child could not make a promise and could only comfort her. However, the kind and innocent child had already discovered something strange about her mother.
"Mom, you are crying. Why are you sad? Please stop crying."
The little boy stretched out a pair of immature hands and took the initiative to help his mother wipe away the tears that kept falling from the corners of her eyes. The mother, who was crying and laughing, tried her best to control her emotions, trying to swallow the sadness and sadness as quickly as possible.
From the belly, wipe it from the face.
But this requires a process, and it may not take too long.
Facing the sorrow and pain in this world, there are always people who are unwilling to stand by and watch.
A lucky thing for the two women who were crying together was that the person who played such a role today happened to be right here in front of them.
"Children, would you like to take this and eat it with your sister first? Maybe you can have a hearty meal tonight and your hunger will be gone. Now you just need to make a wish and it will come true."
Gil's German level was not very good, and many phrases he spoke were no different than a primary school student reciting text, but the timid little boy in front of him could still understand it.
"Mom, can I take it?"
When facing something offered by a stranger, no matter how hungry he was, the little boy still chose to ask his mother first, and all he got from his mother was a nod with tears and a smile.
"Thank you, big sister."
Jill, who has always liked children, stretched out her hand and gently rubbed the little boy's head. The warmth and kindness in her words already rippled through the small room.
"Go ahead, remember not to eat too hard and don't stretch yourself."
"Um!"
Watching the little boy turn around and leave, Gil hurried back to the bedroom without looking back, and gave away a pack of hunger-satisfying biscuits that he had brought with him. He had never felt anything like a pack of seemingly inconspicuous biscuits.
It's really amazing that it can have such a great effect. It's like a sacred object of salvation in myths and legends.
"Thank you for helping me, thank you for saving my child. I really don't know where to find food anymore."
"I wanted to go out and search, but for the children, I am the only relative left. I can't imagine what would happen to my children if I went out and couldn't come back. Their brother and sister have already lost their father.
I have to protect them no matter what."
Gil, who sat back on the broken chair, had just taken out his notebook and was taking notes. He stopped writing the pen in his hand, and Mary, who had stopped writing for the time being, asked a question.
"This may be a little offensive, but can you tell me where your husband has been?"
More mature than Jill, Mary, who was already a mother, could foresee that the outcome might be bad, but she didn't expect that the truth would be worse than she imagined.
"My husband died. He died in this bakery, next to the window."
"Those SS soldiers suddenly rushed in and asked us to hand over all the bread. We had given them all the food we could eat. But they still refused to let us go and ran into the room to search and rummage."
"They found the last bag of rations we had hidden, which our family needed to survive, and they wanted to take it away too."
"My husband tried to stop them, holding on to the bag of rations and trying to beg them to show mercy. But no one expected that the SS soldiers would directly draw their guns. I screamed and it was already too late to stop them.
The SS officer was right in front of me, pulled out his pistol, shot my husband to death in our house, and then pushed open the door with his men and walked away."
"."
Neither Mary nor Jill, two female reporters with short careers, could have imagined that the truth would be like this.
Thinking of some rumors he had heard before, Jill felt that some of these situations were not normal. Although it might be offensive, due to the special nature of his profession, he finally decided to ask questions tentatively.
"But we heard that the SS would capture any young male and force him to fight on the battlefield. If that was the case, why did they kill your husband instead of taking him away?"
This question is indeed not that serious, and both Jill and Mary know that doing so will only make the victim talk about those painful memories more.
But if more people in the world can know the truth, understand this complete and cruel story, and gain insight into Na Na's true nature and ugly evil, Jill, with firm eyes, always believes that it is worth doing.
"Because my husband is a deaf mute, he can neither speak nor hear. When the SS soldiers came to recruit soldiers, they laughed and humiliated him, saying that he was not even qualified to fight for the Führer and would only live as a slave.
Germany is food poor."
"My husband sent them away with a smile for the sake of this family. He couldn't hear their humiliation but knew that it was definitely not a good thing. He just didn't expect that the final result would be like this in a few days."