The Brave Princess

I am excited.  My grandson Benjamin is going to spend the day with me.  He is a very precocious boy who is very smart, but does not seem to fit in with most social activities at his school.  I have my daughter Eva talk about getting him tested for autism, but I tell her some seeds take time, you have to have patience.  She tells me that the teachers are suggesting that there is no more time for him since he has fallen so far behind his peers.  Peers?  Such a clinical word to refer to a ten year old boy.  She tells me his grades are fine, but his behavior is off kilter.  I don’t know what that means, but I am excited to have him for the day.

When he arrives with his mother, my daughter, he appears very serious just like his Uncle Aaron who is attending college at Stanford.  In his hands, he carries a small satchel as we called it in my day.  Inside his satchel are some books.

“What did you bring to read, Benjamin?” I ask as he walks into the foyer.

“Books about dinosaurs.” He answers politely.  To me it seems almost rehearsed. 

“Hmmm, they were big and had big teeth.” I nod, but this does not bring a smile to his face.

“I am reading about the Jurassic Period.”  He informs me as if I have to be properly educated. 

For the next ten minutes, he spouts off what he has read and learned about dinosaurs until Eva kisses him on the top of his head and says, “Mommy has to go now.  You and grandma have fun.”

“Alright.” He answers dutifully.

“Mom, if he gives you any problems, you have my phone number.” Eva grabs her briefcase and waves to us as she leaves through the front door.  I am now sitting on the couch with my grandson who appears bored and anxious.

“You got any cool video games?” He asks, looking for a console that isn’t there.

“I’m afraid not.” I answer.

“What do you have?” He asks with brown eyes the color of river water wide and probing.

“I have this storybook.” I picked it up from the magazine holder next to the couch.

“Storybook?  Is that it?” His voice does not hide his disappointment. 

“I’m afraid so.” I say flipping to the page that Abe used to read to our kids as they were growing up.  I could feel his strong approval in my choice as I opened to the second story on page 37 entitled “The Brave Princess.” 

“I’m too old for fairy tales.” He moaned.

“All of these stories were written by a Polish author.” I met his eyes.

“Polish?  What is that?” He asked as his curiosity piqued a little bit.

“People from Poland.  It is a country far, far away.” I explained.

“Are you from there?” He asked.

“Yes, I was born there.” I smiled, but his face was still stoic at the moment.

“Why did you leave?” He asked.

“Let me read this story and it will help you understand.” I put my hand on his small shoulder and he leaned back into the couch to get comfortable as I read.

In days of lore, in a walled city known as Krakow lived Princess Atoilek, a name that means angel in Polish.  She appeared weak and frail even as she grew into a young lady.  Her skin was a pasty white and her hair was white blonde.  Many joked that if she wanted she could be invisible with her light features.  It did not help that she was shy and afraid to talk to strangers.

When I glanced over at him, I could see that he understood Princess Atoilek and her shyness.  Without missing a beat, I continued to read.

Her father was a great kind, very much loved by his people.  His wife, the queen, was also very much loved by her subjects and thus King Leonardo and Queen Bella enjoyed riding out into the streets, riding in their gold trimmed carriage.  But even those who are loved and adored can harvest feelings of envy and jealousy from those who feel they do not have enough.  One day while riding up the hill to the royal garden, the carriage was attacked by some outlaws.  As King Leonardo stepped from his carriage, one of the men stabbed him with his sword.  Quickly they rode back to the castle to a surgeon, but they were too late.  King Leonardo was dead.  Heartbroken for the loss of her husband, Bella could not recover and she too was laid to rest next to her beloved husband.

I glanced over at him again and noticed his eyes were glistening with tears.  He was just like his mother.  Everytime Abe read this story to Eva, she would shed a tear or two no matter how many times Abe read it to her.

With no legitimate heir to the throne, the Royal Council convened and decided that Princess Atoilek would take the throne once she was married.  Some of the neighboring kingdoms had heard about the tragedy in Krakow.  The king of Gdansk had his eye on his cousin’s kingdom in Krakow and decided that he would move his army to take advantage of this opportunity.  As his army approached Krakow, the citizens wondered who could save them from the evil King Gregor.

“Such a sad state of affairs.” Deacon Wychinski remarked as King Gregor sent in his ultimatum of surrender or die.

There was no ultimatum given on September 1, 1939.  The German armies crossed the border and took Poland in less than two weeks.  Men on horseback were no match for Stukas flying like deadly bees overhead.  Naomi remembered when the German soldiers marched into Krakow.  Her family was rounded up, given gold stars to wear on their jackets, and marched into the ghetto.  At first the Ghetto wasn’t so bad despite the poor plumbing and barbed wire with towers manned by soldiers with machine guns.  Every now and then you could hear gunfire in the distance.  Naomi was only fifteen, but she was having her first crush on Abraham Goethenberg, the son of a rabbi.  He was tall and angular with a smile that made her heart melt.  Her father knew of her longing for the boy.  At first he was not in favor of his young daughter falling for a man three years older, but as one of the counselors for the Ghetto, he knew this could politically be an advantage for the community.  

Gestapo filled the streets one evening and arrested all of the council members.  She remembered seeing her father led away, never knowing it would be the last time she would see him.  Abraham also disappeared, but the Gestapo did not take him.  Instead he disappeared with a bunch of young Jewish men with guns who wanted to rid the country of these evil occupiers.  Abraham’s father would be arrested soon after that and he too disappeared without a trace.  Rumors were flying like crazy in the winter of 1942-43.  

One night she was having a cigarette rolled with tobacco and cabbage when she saw Abraham appear from the shadows.  Smiling, he told her, “Come with me.”

“It is so dangerous.” She replied.

“But at least if we die, we die standing.” He gave her a cigarette that had come from a British airdrop.  After kissing him, she would leave with him and the other partisans. 

“We must fight.” Princess Atoilek told the council.

“With what?” Deacon Wychinski eyed this foolish wisp of a girl.  Never once had she ever spoken out or up about anything and yet facing an enemy with superior numbers, she was telling them they should fight.  King Gregor had legions of men and large weapons that could crush the walls of the city.

“Would my father surrender?” She asked, looking at everyone of the council gathered at the tables around the great hall.  In this place that once had been the site of so many Pentacostal and Christmas celebrations, she now felt her knees tremble, knowing that the fate of their great city lay in her hands.  She was alone.  She had no suitor.  She was still considered nothing more than a girl.

“You father is not here.” Deacon Wychinski grumbled. 

“But all his strength lies with his loyal subjects.  If he turned to his defenders, would they not stand at the walls?  Would they not defend this great kingdom?” Her words echoed in the great room.

“But he would be out there with them.” Deacon Wychinski pointed out.

“Then as his daughter, so shall I.” She avowed. Deacon Wychinski shook his head.

“Foolishness.” was all he could manage to say.

“She was brave.” Benjamin nodded.  There was a smile on his face. It made my heart so glad to see it. Bravery was a rare commodity in some places, but there were moments in my life when it was all I had to keep me going, putting one foot in front of the other.  Abe taught me the grace that comes with courage.  I know that I would never match his grace, but I always hoped I would match the Brave Princess.  

Watching my grandson, I wonder if what is being viewed as autism is nothing more than the courage it takes to be himself.  It is easy to mistake courage for something it’s not.  I want to let him know how I feel about all of what he’s going through, but I shall continue to read this story and hope he will hear the message.  Being brave sometimes means to stay the course even when others are telling you otherwise.  It is much easier to be compliant than to take a path no one else has taken. 

It was a cold morning when some partisans ran into a trap.  Several machine guns had been set up in the snow.  It was a bitter cold day and the partisans did not want to start a fire in case the Germans saw the smoke.  The Ghetto was empty.  All occupants had been removed to camps.  There were stories of mass killings.  

Abraham was leading one of the units when the Germans opened fire.  At least men fell around him as he dove behind a tree.  Despite the continuing airdrops by the British and Americans, ammunition was getting low.  Every bullet had to count.  He raised his rifle, but could not see any of the Germans despite their heavy fire on his men.  

“I am hit, brother.” Hans said, holding his bleeding leg.

Naomi saw some movements ahead, zeroed in and pulled the trigger.  Two soldiers cried out as they fell to the snow.

“Good shot, love.” He said as he tried to stop Hans’ bleeding.  Naomi had Aaron her brother who had taken her out rabbit hunting on many occasions.  She became quite proficient with a rifle, but this was much different than shooting small furry animals. 

“Grandma Naomi.” Benjamin’s small voice called to her.

“Yes, sweetheart.” She looked down at him sitting quite contently.  She wished he had met his grandfather, but Abe passed away a year before Benjamin was born.  

“What was that mark on Uncle Aaron’s arm?” He asked.  She was not ready for that question.   Aaron was taken and sent to Auschwitz.  Somehow, perhaps because of his athletic physique, he survived and by some miracle Naomi met her brother at one of the Red Cross camps.  Since they had family living in New York, they both managed to get a visa to America.  Abraham also found his way to New York where he was reunited with Naomi in a chance meeting at a bakery where she was working.  In the dark days of German occupation, when it seemed God had turned his back on them, they managed to find His good graces once again.  

“You Uncle Aaron spent some time in a camp.” She tried to find her words.

“Like the one I went to last summer?” He asked.

“No dear, it was a bad place.” She fought off her tears.

“Was he bad?” Benjamin asked.

“No, no...he was...taken because…” She could not finish.  She knew that Eva was taking him to temple and teaching him to be proud of his heritage.  She did not wish to ruin it with images from a dark time. She looked at him.  He was waiting for her to finish.  “Tell you what, let’s finish this story of the brave princess.” 

King Gregor sent his machines to take down the walls of the city.  Princess Atoilek stood with the defenders on the parapet.  The sky filled with arrows from the archers.  The catapults heaved heavy stones at the walls, but the walls did not falter.  Gregor sent his horsemen, but the defenders managed to stop them before they could get to the walls.

“By what grace of God have these walls held?” He called out from his saddle.

“We have taken down the battlements of greater cities.  I do not understand why we cannot bring these walls down.” The commander said as he watched the soldiers retreat from the walls.

“Send the city an edict that will detail our retreat.” King Gregor was bitter about having to send such a message to the besieged city.

Princess Atoilek was hailed by her subjects as the Brave Princess.  There was joy and jubilation in the streets. People cheered as she passed riding her royal steed.  Flowers fell at her feet.  The end.  

“This was based on an actual story.” I told Benjamin. “How about we get us some milk and cookies?”

“Horaaay.” He cheered as if he was in the crowd cheering for the brave princess.  

I remembered that day when Russian tanks rumbled down the road through the forest.  While I had been told about the awful things these soldiers did, once the commander found out we were partisans, he held a small ceremony to celebrate their victory over socialistic tyranny.  While treated as heroes, Abraham knew that if we stayed, more than likely they would all become prisoners of Stalin’s iron-fisted rule.  He had heard about Stalin’s pogroms which were as bad as the concentration camps according to some of the reports he had read about.  Even though the war was over, Abraham still believed we had to be cautious.  It took us two weeks to reach Berlin.

Sitting in the kitchen eating cookies was more of a treat than I could imagine.

“That was a great story, grandma.” He said as he grabbed another cookie.

“Yes, it was your grandpa’s favorite.  I miss him reading that story.  He always makes it special.” I beamed as I poured him a glass of milk.

“Mom.” I heard Eva’s voice call from the living room.

“In the kitchen, dear.” I answered.

“What is this?  A cookie party?” She laughed.

“Mom, grandma read me the story of the Brave Princess.” He told her.

“She did?  Just like dad would read it to me.” She glanced at me.

“Oh he read it much better than I did, I’m afraid.” I put her hand over her daughter’s.

“No, I’m sure you read it splendidly.” She said taking a cookie from the plate. 

“Funny how many images run through your head when you read stories like that.” I shook her head.

“It’s like hearing a song on the radio and it brings you back.” Eva remarked.

“Oh, I think it’s more than that, dear.” I closed her eyes, I could see Abe walking into the bakery where I was working.  He was so handsome in his jacket and bowtie.  That moment in my life will always be framed close to my heart. “It’s magic.  You see the people who have long left come back one more time.”

“Hooray for the Brave Princess.” Benjamin hooted. 

“Yes dear, hooray.” She kissed him on the head.  I knew that some stories were filled with magic which is why they will always be told.