Christmas in Amersfoort.
(Tante* is pronounced Tont-ta)
And I was homeless then.
I’d drifted here and there
for far too long.
‘I thought you were in mourning’-
my Tante* said, ‘All dressed in black…
Small suitcase.
Standing sad and pale
on our doorstep.’
They took me in.
The Callenbach’s …in Amersfoort.
Gave me a home.
And I read Anna Frank
up in my little room.
Her arrow flew straight thru’ my heart
And I was 17.
Close by just down the way,
Behind a leafy garden gate,
A house stood silently and still.
It bore the horror of a time,
When Jews were rounded up
and taken off to die.
And there were many more
like them…my Tante said.
I worked up in the Hospital…
that loomed high on the hill.
I cycled on my bicycle,
Served food and tea to sickly men.
Then cycled down again.
Working on Christmas Day
became emotional.
Thick Snow had fallen in the night
The morning view was magical…
The hill, the trees…all painted white
Like some enchanted distant orb,
Placed there…beyond the suffering,
A special Christmas offering
For all the sick and dying
in their beds.
And playing soft and deep and strong
Mahalia Jackson…. full of song…
Sang ….Silent Night…Holy Night…
over the Intercom.
So baleful.. beautiful her art,
A sweet sad sorrow flowed into,
the deep recesses of my heart….. -
I never will forget it.
Kristine Byrne Dec. 22nd 2019
Image by Anya Gallaccio