It was the terrible winter of 1945/46.
Sissy walked through the darkness. It was raining and she was walking through dirty snow that had already lain on the ground for several weeks. Every day for weeks now she had been looking for food, or to find work in exchange for food, from the farmers. Sometimes successfully, sometimes not. She was fourteen.
In the first years after the death of her father, the army had tried to help and protect the family. Now there was no german army any more. Of the men who had survived only the old men were not in prison.
The family was only surviving from the food that Sissy could earn or beg. For a while her mother had taken in washing, but now no one in the village had any money, and there was, in any case, nothing to buy in the village shop.
View original post 869 more words