Children of the Stars

by Mario Escobar

  As soon as the train started and they felt the comforting rhythm of its chugging along, Prados leaned his arm against the window frame and observed the city. “I can’t live there, but I don’t know what I’d do if Buenos Aires didn’t exist. Chaotic, dehumanizing, dirty, anarchic—but she’s my mistress, my lover. I love roaming the streets on the outskirts, so calm, unpretentious, not clamoring to be known. I think about the people who live in those houses; I imagine what part of the world they’re from and what they left behind to reach some little dream. Buenos Aires is one street I’ll never come to the end of. There’s always something more to discover in the heart of a human and in the heart of a city,” he mused, somewhat melancholy.

  After a while, the landscape became monotonous, interminable flat fields that simultaneously announced the country’s wealth and the poverty of the human landscape, always transformed by economic interest and the love of money. The river, separating the wetlands from the croplands, was now distant, like the last vestige of a countryside growing extinct as humanity advanced.

  “Argentina is great!” Moses exclaimed.

  “You can’t measure the greatness of a country by acreage, my boy. The souls of men and women make a country great. There are many, many good souls in Argentina. But there are also many speculators who are only out to exploit her. Don’t confuse flags for patriots. You can’t love a symbol and hate what it represents. The people are the nation: every last dark or light face, every blond- or black-haired person, the Russians, the Poles, the Italians, the Galicians. To be Argentine, you just have to love things from all over the world and make them yours. Being Argentine isn’t a nationality. It’s a state of mind.”

  Prados eventually succumbed to the rocking of the train and closed his eyes, snoring lightly. Jacob and Moses enjoyed the silence of the endless plains until Rosario subtly arose, unpretentious, before their eyes. For many, it was just a stop between Córdoba and Buenos Aires, but human contact after the endless plains and the simplicity of the streets invited newcomers to get lost among Rosario’s inhabitants.

  The train station in Rosario was a simple white building with a small clock in the center. Jacob and Moses, carrying their suitcases, and Juan Prados, using his umbrella as a cane, disembarked, left the station, and walked toward a trolley.

  They went down Mendoza Street and walked slowly toward the beautiful Teatro El Círculo. Through a side door, they approached the orchestra level and saw the curving walls lined with gold and bloodred box seats. Jacob and Moses stared up at the domed ceiling, still clinging to their suitcases. Then they lowered their gaze to the stage. A small group of actors was reading a play called Life Is a Dream. One man, standing, had his back to them. Beside him, a blond-haired woman leaned over, taking notes.

  Moses dropped the suitcase and started running. Jacob followed. Their feet slapped down the red carpet. They bounded up the stairs to the stage and stood waiting, breath bated, incapable of speech.

  The man who was standing up turned to see what all the actors were seeing. The woman lifted her head and her sweet gaze fixed on the faces of the boys. For a moment, time stood still; nothing happened; eternity poised all its intricate movement on that one moment. Then the man threw the papers he had been holding into the air and ran toward the children. The woman stood, clapped her hands to her mouth, and followed. They all four ended in a tangle of hugs on the floor, arms groping to confirm reality. Tears spilled out of closed eyes and mixed with the tears of the faces pressed against them. Four hearts beat as one in that inseparable embrace.

  Everyone watching was surprised and delighted. Observing the happiness of others always makes the world make a little more sense all of a sudden, makes suffering a little more bearable, makes grief a little less suffocating.

  “My God!” Jana kept shouting as her children kissed her like desperate puppies, trying to make up for the thousand longed-for yet delayed kisses during their separation.

  Eleazar seemed to have gone mad. His animal instincts kicked in. He beat his chest and was sweating, both overjoyed and overwrought with guilt for having abandoned them when they most needed him. But the children brought no reproach. They loved their parents so deeply and needed them so wholly that the reunion was the best moment of their lives. On that stage, surrounded by the invisible audience of all the people who had helped them since May 1941, the children finally felt secure. They could hear distant applause, but it did not come from the small group of actors who wept to witness the emotional encounter. The echo came from much farther, from the streets of war-besieged Paris; from the infamous Vél d’Hiv that reaped so many lives with its cruel confinement; from the Vichy’s concentration camps; from the dusty streets of France; from the trains full of the fear of the refugees; and, more than anywhere, from the green valleys of Le Chambon-sur-Lignon, where a village of men and women set their faces against the horror and showed that, armed with the Spirit, the noblest hearts are always capable of overcoming and that the shadows of evil will finally be dispelled until light invades everything once more—for a new generation to believe it can change the world, or at least try.

  Epilogue

  Rosario, Argentina, October 15, 1943

  Dear André and Magda,

  We’ve reached the end of our journey. Many times we doubted we would make it, but hope never fully abandoned us. It’s bad for people to lose hope, because it’s the only thing that keeps us tied to our dreams.

  My parents are so grateful to you. We told them about your courage and how much you love people. We know a lot of people have sacrificed themselves for complete strangers, but you all understood a long time ago that human beings are part of the same family and that we’re all brothers and sisters.

  Over here, the war seems like a faraway ghost, but we know it’s still a very real monster in France. You two taught me to trust. I hope this trust doesn’t let you down during the hard times you’re going through.

  The sky looks just as blue in Argentina. The prairies are just as green, and the same stars shine every night here—but we never forget Le Chambon-sur-Lignon and all the children who dream of reaching what we have. Keep encouraging them; help them know they can change the world.

  I hope you have news of Anna? I haven’t forgotten her.

  Moses is doing well. He never leaves Mother’s side, doesn’t even let her go to the bathroom by herself! I wear long pants now, but I’m still avoiding the world of adults. I think I’ll be happier if I always stay like a child, plus it’ll help me be braver about the future. The world is full of cowards who give up on their dreams, but I’ll never stop. I owe it to those who didn’t reach their dreams, those who died in some forgotten ditch; the people from whom the Nazis stole their will to live; and the people who have become a ghost of themselves.

  Sometimes my heart is full of things that words can’t fully express, but I’ll always walk on the edge of the impossible without being afraid of falling. And if I trip, I’ll get back up again. I understand now that all of us have a deep desire for eternity in our hearts and that someday I’ll see again all those who helped me on this long journey.

  I hope all the best for you and send my unconditional love, the same kind of love that you gave to this stranger and his little brother.

  Your son forever,

  Jacob Stein

  Clarifications from History

  Jacob and Moses Stein themselves are fictitious characters, but the story about them is based on the experiences of real children who traveled all over Europe during the dark years of World War II. In a way, the brothers are a tribute both to all those who managed to escape the bombs and the cruel grasp of the Nazis, and to all those who did not—to those whose innocent lives were devoured by the insatiable hatred of fanatical, inhumane humans.

  The events described in the Paris roundup and the Vélodrome d’Hiver are true. Thousands of people were crammed into the velodrome for days, waiting to be shipped to an uncertain destiny up north. Thousands of Jews living in
France died in gas chambers or as a result of the mistreatment and abuse of their captors. France deported some seventy-six thousand Jews between 1942 and 1944; only an estimated three percent survived, though some sources report that up to ten percent of those deported were eventually able to return.

  The French Resistance and several anonymous French coalitions helped thousands of Jews hide during the war, thus lending dignity to the history of a country subserviently given over to Nazi whims.

  The story of Le Chambon-sur-Lignon and its residents is true. A simple village in the middle of nowhere served as the refuge for thousands of persecuted people. The Protestant pastor André Trocmé, his wife, Magda, and most of the Le Chambon characters mentioned in this novel are real. After the war, André and Magda held positions in several organizations that worked for peace.

  Daniel Trocmé, along with most of the students detained with him in the summer of 1943, died in a Nazi extermination camp.

  Hope for many immigrants, especially Jews, lay across the Atlantic Ocean. They were not wanted in their own countries and had to fight to escape the Nazi nightmare. Argentina was one of the countries that accepted the most Jews, becoming a sort of promised land for them.

  Buenos Aires is magic, a little piece of heaven on earth. It welcomed millions of people from all parts of the world, restoring their dignity as human beings. Yet it is as complex as it is magic: it also welcomed countless Nazis and fascists fleeing the justice demanded after the war. The way I see it, being Argentine is—as one of the characters says—more than a nationality. It’s a state of mind, which allows me to feel like I, too, am a bit Argentine.

  Finally, I want to pay the highest tribute to those who, not for lack of trying, never finished the journey and never saw their dreams come true.

  Timeline

  September 1, 1939

  Germany invades Poland, initiating World War II in Europe.

  September 3, 1939

  Fulfilling their commitment to safeguard Poland’s borders, Great Britain and France declare war on Germany.

  April 9, 1940–June 9, 1940

  Upon German invasion of Denmark and Norway, Denmark surrenders immediately; Norway resists until June 9.

  May 10, 1940–June 22, 1940

  German invasion of western Europe: France, the Netherlands, Luxembourg, and Belgium, all of which eventually surrender. On June 22, France signs an armistice agreement under which the Germans occupy the northern half of the country and the entire Atlantic coast. A collaborationist government for southern France is established in the city of Vichy.

  June 10, 1940

  Italy joins the war and invades southern France on June 21.

  June 16, 1940

  French Premier Paul Reynaud offers his resignation, and his successor, Marshal Philippe Pétain, immediately establishes communication with Germany.

  July 10, 1940

  Complete governmental powers are given to Marshal Philippe Pétain in the new constitution for Vichy France.

  December 1940

  The first Jewish woman seeking refuge arrives in Le Chambon-sur-Lignon.

  June 22, 1941–December 6, 1941

  Germany and the Axis partners (except Bulgaria) invade the Soviet Union, taking control of many cities. A Soviet counteroffensive pushes the Germans out of Moscow.

  December 7, 1941

  Japan drops bombs on Pearl Harbor.

  December 8, 1941

  The United States of America declares war on Japan and enters World War II.

  May 30, 1942–May 1945

  The British bomb the German city of Cologne, taking the war into Germany for the first time. For the next three years, British–US bombings reduce German cities to rubble.

  July 16–17, 1942

  The Vélodrome d’Hiver roundup in Paris.

  August 10, 1942

  The Vichy minister of youth, Georges Lamirand, and the prefect Robert Bach visit Le Chambon-sur-Lignon.

  August 25, 1942

  Raids begin in Le Chambon-sur-Lignon.

  November 8, 1942

  Vichy forces fail to repel US and British troops that land at various points along the coast of Algeria and Morocco in French North Africa. This Vichy failure allows the Allies to reach the western border of Tunisia, which precipitates the German occupation of southern France on November 11.

  November 23, 1942–February 2, 1943

  Soviet troops launch a counterattack and trap the German Sixth Army in Stalingrad. With Hitler’s prohibition of retreat or escape from Soviet territory, survivors of the German Sixth Army surrender.

  February 1943

  The compulsory labor service program is created, through which some six hundred thousand French were sent to work in Germany.

  February 13, 1943

  André Trocmé, Edouard Theis, and Roger Darcissac are arrested and held at the detention camp at Saint-Paul d’Eyjeaux.

  June 29, 1943

  Raid at the Maison des Roches: the Gestapo arrest eighteen students and Daniel Trocmé.

  September 8, 1943

  With Mussolini internally deposed and imprisoned, the Italian marshal Pietro Badoglio leads Italy and surrenders to the Allies. The Germans take control of Rome and northern Italy, free Mussolini, and install him as a puppet leader.

  June 6, 1944

  Allied invasion of Normandy, France, in which combined British, US, and Canadian forces land on beachheads along the Atlantic coast of France.

  August 26, 1944

  General Leclerc’s troops march through Paris, proclaiming the liberation of France from Nazi occupation.

  Discussion Questions

  The Steins make the difficult decision to leave their sons behind in search of a safe place for their family to live together. Would you have made the same choice if forced into their position? If not, what would you have done?

  Many people help Moses and Jacob along their journey, often to their own detriment. What motivated such people? What prevented others from protecting those in harm’s way?

  Describe how this novel depicts the atmosphere of Nazi-occupied Paris. Did the people of France understand what was happening to their country? Did denial, hatred, or fear play a role in how citizens behaved toward the vulnerable among them?

  How does apathy play a role in this story?

  Describe the moments of resilience in the novel. Are children more resilient than adults? Why or why not?

  In a desperate time and place like Nazi-occupied France, what is the value of hope?

  Who are the heroes of this story? Who are the villains?

  Wise little Jacob proclaims, “We always have to choose between love and fear.” What does he mean by this, and what happens when we choose fear?

  What does this story tell you about the power of family? The power of love and sacrifice?

  The author based this novel upon real people who lived in Le Chambon-sur-Lignon and protected the refugees of war. How does the truth of this story change the way you read and experience it?

  Acknowledgments

  A trip in 2011 drew me in for the first time to the incredible story of Le Chambon-sur-Lignon. It was not the only town in France that helped refugees and hid Jews, but it did the most to rescue the dignity of a country fawning at the perverse force of the Nazis.

  In 2016 I visited Le Chambon-sur-Lignon with my family. First and foremost, it was an internal journey that taught us the value of human life and the importance of never giving up.

  I would like to thank the Lieu de Mémoire au Chambon-sur-Lignon for their kind welcome and the opportunity to visit the museum dedicated to those who helped fight for persecuted people during World War II.

  I am indebted to Richard P. Unsworth and Pierre Boismorand for their biographies of André Trocmé and his wife, Magda. Also helpful in understanding the facts about Le Chambon-sur-Lignon and its protagonists were the books of Peter Grose, Albin Michel, Patrick Gérard Henry, Bertrand Solet, and Patrick Cabanel.

  I also wa
nt to thank Pierre Sauvage for his magnificent documentary Weapons of the Spirit, which rescued the memories of what happened in Le Chambon-sur-Lignon at a time when French society still preferred to look the other way.

  Jean-Louis Lorenzi’s 1994 film La Colline aux Mille Enfants also included a helpful portrayal of some of what occurred in Le Chambon.

  I want to thank Elisabeth, Andrea, and Alejandro, who went with me to the beautiful meadows of Le Chambon-sur-Lignon and were as excited as I was to see the story of those valleys come to life.

  I cannot leave out all those who sent me throughout the Americas to promote my last novel, Auschwitz Lullaby: my good friend Ana Matonte, the creative and endearing Berenice Rojas, the kind and happy Karla Nájera, the dynamic and tireless Jorge Cota, and the always smiling and prepared Selene Covarrubias.

  My gratitude goes to the publishers of Del Nuevo Extremo, Miguel Lambré and his wonderful sons Martín and Tomás, who hosted us in Buenos Aires, offering their friendship and affection along with a tour of the Immigrant Hotel. What exquisite Argentine beef! And what exquisite company!

  To my dear friend, the author Eduardo Goldman, who received me so warmly in his lovely city.

  To the entire team of HarperCollins Español, who work their fingers to the bone day in and day out to keep this great editorial ship moving forward: Graciela, Lluvia, Carlos, and so many others.