‘Do you know what the date is?’ Magda raises her head.
‘We celebrated the beginning of Hanukkah two days ago, so today must be the 24th of December.’
‘It’s Christmas Eve,’ Magda says. When no one responds, she adds, ‘And there is a war going on, correct?’
Yitzchak slowly nods.
‘And yet,’ Magda is suddenly angry again, ‘you should see the houses and stores, all lit up in celebration. I mean, how can they, Mumma? Grandfather? When people are being killed? When we have no idea where Cibi and Livi are or when they’ll come home? But these people, these “friends and neighbours”， all they care about is filling their stomachs and buying presents.’ Magda deflates and Chaya puts her arms around her daughter. There is nothing else she can do or say. The women weep.
Yitzchak quietly places a bowl of steaming soup on the table. ‘Magda, eat now.’
‘If it’s Christmas Eve, maybe they won’t come knocking on our door,’ Chaya says, hopefully.
‘It’s Shabbat, Chaya.’ Yitzchak shakes his head. ‘They always come on Shabbat.’
‘But maybe Mumma’s right, though,’ Magda says. ‘They might take the night off.’
Chaya and Yitzchak exchange a look.
‘We can’t risk it,’ he says, looking away.
‘Are you sure, Father? It’s snowing, and Mrs Trac is still away.’
‘I’m sorry, Magda.’ Yitzchak is trying to sound firm, but his voice trembles. ‘We can’t take a chance, it just isn’t worth it.’
‘Perhaps for a few hours only, then,’ suggests Chaya. ‘They won’t visit more than once on Christmas Eve.’ She would take Magda’s place if she could, in a heartbeat.
‘It’s OK, Mumma, honestly. I’ll be fine, I know where to hide out of the wind.’ Now it’s Magda’s turn to force a smile. ‘I have a secret place.’
‘That’s good!’ announces Yitzchak. ‘But don’t tell us.’ He picks up Magda’s thick braid and gives it a small tug. ‘If we don’t know, we can’t be forced to reveal it.’
‘Oh, I think you know where it is – I’ll give you a small clue but that’s all. Don’t try and guess.’ Magda’s eyes are twinkling now.
‘Oh, we’re playing games, are we? All right then, give me a clue.’
‘Hope and strength,’ she announces.
Yitzchak smiles, nodding.
‘And what does that mean?’ Chaya says, perplexed.
‘You don’t need to know, daughter.’ Yitzchak winks at Magda.
‘Oh, so now we’re keeping secrets?’ But Chaya is smiling. ‘I think I like it that the two of you have a secret. You should keep it.’
‘And now I must go to my secret,’ Magda says. She picks up her bowl of soup and downs it one long gulp.
Following a long-established routine, Yitzchak proceeds to wrap up some bread and cheese for Magda’s night in the woods. He adds an oatmeal cookie which Ivan’s wife, Helena, gave them yesterday. Chaya forces layer upon layer of clothing on Magda until she is fat with vests and jumpers. She wears three pairs of socks and squeezes her feet into her mother’s boots, thankfully a size larger than her own. From a cupboard Chaya produces the only article of clothing she has kept of Menachem’s: a long, heavy army coat. It comes down to Magda’s feet. The heavy blanket from the bed Magda once shared with Cibi is folded and placed in a drawstring bag.
The sun is minutes away from setting when Yitzchak snuffs out the candles, opens the front door and ushers Magda into the night. The snow is still falling and flimsy flakes glide through the dull yellow light of the streetlamps. She doesn’t see a single soul as she hurries towards the forest. Above her, the clouds part to reveal a galaxy of stars, lighting her way. The moon, just a thin sliver tonight, offers her nothing.
*
Naked branches sway and creak in the wind in the forest. Magda is no longer scared of the long shadows they throw in her path; instead, they feel like wide-open arms, welcoming her back into their sanctuary.
Sliding down a small bank, Magda finds her way to the small cave of earth that has been a second home to her these long months. She brushes away a thin covering of snow on the ground before settling down, her knees curled up under her chin, out of the wind and snow. She is hugged by the thick blanket, by her father’s warm coat. Pulling the collar to her nose she believes she can still smell the masculine, familiar scent of her father. She feels his presence and falls asleep knowing he is watching over her.