His war work often took Klaus away for days, occasionally weeks.
On his return he would give Hanne a package of dazzling white tissue paper, tied with fine red string. Inside, a glass flower.
Roses, their petals furled and gilded; daffodils whose golden trumpets captured the sun; lily of the valley, crocuses, celandine, all spun and blown, Klaus said, to imitate the garden she’d sacrificed when they moved from Bavaria to an apartment near the Reichstag.
After the war, after the trial, Hanne bought a granite mortar and pestle, took each flower in turn and ground them to powder.
After reading Rochelle’s moving story this week, I got to wondering how other women spent the war. Thanks for the inspiration, Rochelle.