Roman
I found a job as a clerk for a lawyer who knew my father, and I won a scholarship to commence my law degree at the newly reopened University of Warsaw. Around those responsibilities, I spent every spare minute with Emilia.
I was itching to propose but first needed to get my degree and start earning real money, and I needed to repay Mateusz. He was managing someone else’s textiles factory and seemed to be getting by, but my conscience would never rest until I’d squared the debt. I warned Emilia that our wedding would be years away. “We have nothing but time,” she’d said as she smiled at me, her green eyes alight with happiness.
One night, while I was sitting at the kitchen table studying, Sara sat opposite me knitting. Out of nowhere, she suddenly said, “Miriam Liebman called me today.”
I looked up at her in surprise.
“Has she found Eleonora?”
Sara looked back at her knitting, her gaze pensive.
I frowned. “Sara, what is it?”
“Miriam finally managed to track her down. Eleonora’s foster mother died this past winter. Her father was unable to care for her, and she’s been placed in an orphanage. She also seems to have some health issues, likely a result of the malnutrition in her infancy.”
I closed my textbook slowly, digesting this news.
“Will she find a new family?”
“It is unlikely,” Sara murmured. “The orphanages have been full of children since the war, and the sick ones are hardly ever chosen. It’s possible, I suppose, but she may be in the facility for some time.”
“Can I go see her?”
“I wasn’t sure I should tell you,” Sara admitted, and her gaze dipped to my textbook, then back to my face. “Your life is busy enough as it is. I don’t want you to feel compelled to complicate it further.”
“She and I are all that remains of our entire family,” I said simply. “If she needs me, I’ll find a way to help her.”
I borrowed a car from my boss, and before dawn the next morning, Emilia and I left the city to make the three-hour journey to Cze˛stochowa.
“What do you plan to do for her?” Emilia asked.
“I have no idea,” I admitted.
“Whatever you decide, I am with you all the way.”
We found Eleonora sitting on the floor in the orphanage director’s office, between a heavy oak desk and a set of leather chairs. It had been five years since I had seen my baby sister, and back then, she was so tiny I could have held her with one hand. Although no longer an infant, she was still so fragile, dressed in a knitted sweater and skirt that swam on her delicate frame. Her hair had been brushed and put into two ponytails on either side of her head, each tied with a red ribbon. When she turned and I saw her face, her features were so reminiscent of Dawidek’s that my knees went weak.
“Eleonora, this is Mr. Gorka and Mrs. Gorka,” Sister Irena said quietly.
“Oh, we aren’t married,” Emilia said.
“Yet,” I added hastily, and I tore my gaze from my sister to Emilia. “We are engaged, and we plan to marry very soon.”
The last time we’d spoken of an engagement, we’d been talking in terms of years, but the thought of this little girl, all alone in this crowded orphanage, was just about breaking my heart.
“Next weekend, in fact,” Emilia said lightly, catching on so quickly that if I hadn’t already been completely gone for her, I’d have fallen in love with her right then. Her gaze dropped down to Eleonora, and I saw an instant affection rise in her eyes. She took a step forward, then crouched beside my sister and withdrew a little caramel from her pocket. “Hi. I’m Emilia. It’s very nice to meet you.”
Eleonora looked at the candy, then up at Emilia, but she didn’t respond. Unperturbed, Emilia dropped to sit on the carpet and unwrapped the candy, then motioned toward her mouth with it. Eleonora finally took the candy, but sniffed it suspiciously, then licked it and finally put it in her mouth. Her eyes widened, and finally she smiled.
“We have tried our best with this little one,” Sister Irena said sadly. “But she came to us desperately underweight, and it doesn’t matter how much we feed her, she is always skinny and catches every illness that goes around. She doesn’t speak much, but the Sisters tell me she has been learning her letters and seems bright enough. I am hopeful that if she can find a stable home her health will recover.”
I heard the nun’s chatter, but my attention was fixed on Eleonora and Emilia. I hadn’t dared to think about my family in years—it hurt too much to confront what I had lost. But as I watched Emilia form a bond with Eleonora, I thought about my mother and Samuel and Dawidek and the warm, loving environment I had once taken for granted.
My life’s work would be rebuilding Poland, but that work needed to start right at home—with rebuilding a family for Eleonora, Emilia and me. I sat on the floor beside Emilia, and I smiled at my baby sister. She looked at Emilia and me warily, as if she were ready to lash out at any moment.
It struck me that for all that I had lost and for all that I had been through, life still had immeasurable blessings in store for me. I thought of Chaim, as I often did in my happiest moments, and I sent a silent prayer that, wherever he was, he knew that I was grateful to him. I won’t waste it, Chaim. I won’t waste a second of this life.
“Hello, Eleonora,” I said softly, as I stared into my sister’s eyes. “You don’t remember me, but I remember you, and I am never going to leave you again.”