Ernő set the note on the tangled bedsheets and wiped his sweaty hands on the brown pants he’d slept in. For the longest time, he stared at the letter, though it was so small, it could hardly be called that. What did it contain? Good news or bad? Did he even want to know?
He stared at Zofia’s curly handwriting. So like her. Full of vitality.
Finally he could stand it no longer. He unfolded the letter. Just a small scrap of paper, but she had squished her words together to maximize space.
My dearest,
He closed his eyes and traced the words as if his fingertips could conjure her voice.
I don’t know when or if you’ll get this. A kind guard brought me this scrap of paper and a pencil and promised to deliver my words. I wanted to share what was on my heart. I’m in Budapest, in prison. By the time you receive this, they will have come for me.
I have loved you since the first time we met. You were so handsome and so kind to a Jewish Polish refugee. In your eyes, I found the acceptance and love not many people afforded me. I was home.
Our ending is not what we wish it might have been. Our child will never see the sunrise, never feel the grass on his bare feet, never shape an instrument with his hands. But he knows he was loved. Our heavenly Father will be a father to him.
Though I could wish for more time with you, I am anxious to be home. Soon my feet will tread the streets of gold. Though you may be hungry, I will feast. The music on my lips will never die.
These three years we’ve been married have been the happiest of my life. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for strengthening me. Thank you for giving me a child.
I hear their footsteps. Farewell, sweetheart. Until we meet again. Remember, I will always love you and cherish the memory of you.
May God bless you and grant you the peace I have, a peace that surpasses all understanding. I kiss your hands.
Your beloved,
Zofia
Éva and Patrik stood side by side at the ship’s railing as the salty water of the Mediterranean Sea sprayed over them. Behind them, Istanbul rose above the water, the spires of St. Sophia jutting into the blue sky.
Éva had never seen anything like this before. The exotic scenery, the crystal water, the topaz heavens stole her breath. She clutched her clarinet case to her chest, the one piece of Hungary she’d never relinquish.
Beside her, Patrik hummed a tune.
“A new composition?”
“I have a symphony brewing inside me. One I started at György’s house. When we get to Palestine, I’m going to finish it. Perhaps I’ll get a position in Jerusalem. Is there an orchestra there? Maybe I’ll have to start one. That’s what my mother always wanted for me. I’m sure there will be plenty of talented musicians to work with.” He resumed his humming.
She strained to hear him over the din of the crowd in the overloaded boat. The song moved along, crescendos peaking and crashing, much like this ship slicing through the waves.
From what reached her ears, it would be a glorious piece. His best yet.
Their future held so much potential in the promised land.
Playing several concerts had raised enough money to fund their trek through Romania to the Black Sea port. Thank goodness Patrik’s contact in Bucharest had forged papers that were good enough to fool the authorities. Many Jews were turned away from Turkey or denied passage on ships to Palestine. But God had blessed the two of them. They were among the fortunate. Who knew what awaited those who were turned away.
As the land faded behind them and nothing but water surrounded them, the number of passengers on deck thinned. Still Éva shielded her eyes from the hot sun and drank in the adventure.
“Are you sure you don’t mind settling in Palestine?” Patrik furrowed his brow in a deep V.
“To live in the land where Jesus lived and taught, where He died and rose again, that is a privilege. I can’t wait to get there.” If only the rest of their families could join them. Word had reached them that the Germans had removed Hungary’s more moderate prime minister Horthy for negotiating peace with the Allies, and now the ruthless Arrow Cross party was running rampant. Conditions had deteriorated a great deal since their tiyul.
Lord, protect my family. All of them.
Perhaps when this whole sordid affair ended, they would be reunited. They could return to Hungary. Please, Lord, let that be the case.
Next to her, Patrik moved. She turned to him as he dropped to one knee. “What are you doing?”
“Bognár Éva, you are the strongest, most determined woman I have ever met. Through everything, you have shown immense fortitude and resilience. When I proposed the first time, I thought I could never love you more than I did in that minute. But I was wrong.”
She sucked in a breath, her pulse fluttering in her wrist.
“My love for you has only grown brighter every day. I need nothing else in this world other than you and God. He brought us together and has granted us our lives. I want us to live them together, as one, as man and wife.
“I promise I will love you until the very end of my days, whether that be tomorrow or, Lord willing, fifty years from now. I will treat you with the kindness and respect you deserve. Even when we disagree, I will never stop loving you.
“As far as it is possible, I will never lie to you again. I will protect you but also be your helper, your guide, your lover, your husband.
“Will you marry me?”
As the ship plunged through a wave, Éva squatted beside Patrik. Her heart almost burst through her chest. She caressed his face. “Patrik, I love you more than my own life.
“I will trust you, depend on you, and help you. Never will I leave your side or forsake you. I will always think the best of you. I commit our relationship to the Lord, who has been so gracious as to preserve our lives and to give me you as my husband.
“I will be your helpmeet, your companion, your lover, your wife.”
As the ship carried them toward their new life, Patrik drew her close and kissed her.
From within her flowed the refrain that would never cease.