February 2nd, 1939

Hannah grasped the small bag her mother handed her. It was filled with necessary belongings, and would soon be all she owned in the world. She wasn't allowed to bring a lot of material items, only those that would serve her well in a foreign country. Cold sweat crept down her neck as bodies shifted around her. The worries increased as she heard the sound of her thudding heart mixed with the echoes of footsteps.

She knew she would have to leave Germany eventually. It took her parents long enough to realize this—that they couldn't be safe. Their rights as citizens had been stripped away from them. First Hannah couldn't go to school with her friends, then she wasn't allowed to go to the park or movie theater, and then her Father lost his job as a dentist. Her Mother wasn't allowed to teach. They were very smart people, but they weren't smart enough to understand that they weren't wanted. Jews were no longer normal people.

As other children with tags clipped onto their clothing were being bordered on the train, Hannah's mother knelt down to clip her daughter's tag. She made sure it was tightly fixed onto her thin red coat. She fiddled with her daughter's braids, caressing her dark hair for what may be the very last time.

"Do you remember your English lessons, Leibling?" her Mother pestered in a quiet tone, "I want you to be able to communicate, even if it's only a little."

"Yes," Hannah replied, though it wasn't very clear English with her strong German accent. She only learned a few words her mother knew, but they may help her communicate a bit.

Her mother's face fell. She has always been a spirited person, but it was rare to see a smile nowadays. She was always beautiful when she smiled; her cheekbones lifted and her short, curly hair framed her perfectly. After her father was taken away on that dreadful night, her mother couldn't smile. If only she could've seen it once before she left, though of course the Nazis had taken away her spirit too.

"Come here," her mother said, gently. Hannah nearly tackled her, as she wrapped her arms around her.

"I'm scared," Hannah whispered. "I don't know if I'll ever see you again. What if they take you away like they took Papa?"

"Hush, hush," she tried to calm down her child. Tears streamed down he little girl's face. "Everything will be alright."

"No, it won't!" Hannah whimpered. "I can't think of happy thoughts when I know I have to leave you!"

"I'll never leave you. I'll always be right there," she softly pointed to the right side of her daughter's chest. "Your heart will have room for me, won't it?"

"If it's big enough," she said, trying not to choke on her tears.

"There is no one with a heart as big as yours," her mother said, her voice low and mellow. "Make sure that the English don't allow you to forget who you are."

The little girl slowly nodded. She nearly jumped when she heard the announcer's loud voice echo through the station. "Final call to all the kinder! Final call to all the kinder!"

With that, the mother grabbed her daughter by her hands, pushing through the pool of people. A guard with a stern, menacing face checked her number before ushering onto the train. "By, my Liebling," she whispered before being dragged away.

She was shoved into a compartment with three girls. All wore long, slim skirts. A tall girl who couldn't have been older than sixteen, a girl who looked roughly about the other girl's age, and a little girl with her light hair twisted into a Dutch braid. All of the children nervously looked out the window, waving to their parents. Hannah joined them by the window, pressing her face against glass. She locked her eyes with her mother, who was all the way in the background.

This was the last image of her Mother she'd ever see. No smile, just droopy, watery eyes. There was no place for her in Germany, and she knew it. What she didn't know, was that this was one of the many moments that would haunt her forever.

"Hannah! Hannah!" a voice whined in her ear.

The girl was awoken by a rough shake. Even though she met her just a few moments ago, she felt as if little Aviva's hands were stronger than her own. No wonder her sisters sometimes got annoyed of her. This adorable button-nosed six year old really couldn't calm down!

"Are we in London? I could feel the train stopping!" she cried.

Hannah rubbed her eyes, the image in front of her started to get clearer. Aviva's older sisters Miriam and Dinah were looking at Hannah with a teasing smile. She got to know them the last half hour before she passed out into a deep slumber. Miriam was a sixteen year old girl with a very straight, mature posture. On the other hand, Dinah slouched in her seat, blowing the short strands of hair out of her eyes.

As Hannah got to know them, she found out that their family was orthodox. They lived in Munich, having to get to Berlin for the Kindertransport. They all agreed that life was peaceful for them until Hitler grew into power. Miriam told her that her family struggled very hard to get all three of them passports. She originally wasn't planning on going, but her chances to get selected increased as their father was put into labor. The girls found common ground through that, bonding as they also tried to calm the youngest.

"We won't be in London for ages," Hannah replied. "You're just thinking it."

"You've been asking us for the past five minutes," Dinah sighed. "I'm getting tired of you asking the same question thousands of times."

"Dinah," Miriam scolded in a gentle tone. "Just tell her that she should be more patient."

"I've been patient," Aviva said.

"No, you weren't," Dinah countered.

"Dinah," Miriam used a harsher voice.

"Alright," the girl sighed, mockingly. "You should be more patient."

Miriam rolled her eyes as her younger sister spoke. "We're not going to be there in a long time. We won't get to London right away. We'll ride on a Ferry from Holland on the Dutch border."

The little girl made a pouty face. Just by the way the three talked to each other, Hannah was able to read them like an open book. There was this inner desire to have at least one sibling to talk to. To grow up together and argue with to pass time. Even if she were going away, she'd still be alone.

"Do you know if you're going to get separated?" Hannah asked, as gently as possible.

The three sisters gave each other uneasy looks. They didn't need to say in words that they were worried—their eyes said it all. Despite all their bickering the last moment, they couldn't live without each other.

"I think we are," Miriam answered, unsure. "The last group of children was from an orphanage. I'm sure siblings were separated."

Aviva's eyes drooped, "I don't want us to be separated."

"We're probably going to be put in foster care," Dinah said, bitterly. "No one wants a girl who's already in their teens."

"Of course we'll all have a foster family even if we're not together," Miriam said, calmly.

"Who would want to take care of us?" Dinah said, before turning to Hannah with a sneer. "You're lucky you're ten."

Hannah looked down as she spoke. There was no feeling of shame, but a feeling of sympathy. She knew what it was like when you felt unwanted. It was all too familiar ever since the Fuher declared that all Jews were schwein. Aryan classmates would throw rocks and kick dust into her eye. She heard their taunting voices echo through the walls of her mind: "Jüdisches Schwein! Jüdisches Schwein!"

Her friends couldn't play with her; their parents wouldn't allow their child to be friends with a Jewish girl. This moment caused a black hole to grow in her heart, one that eventually took away her innocence.

"Don't say that," Hannah said.

"If it weren't for Hitler," Dinah spat, gritting her teeth as she spoke. "We wouldn't have had to leave."

"Dummkopf," Aviva agreed.

Miriam shook her head. Hannah couldn't help but smile. Children learned that "bad language" in school. When parents argued, they always called each other names because they were angry. Children easily picked them up, especially if they were the target of those words. She remembered the first time her Mother told her that she shouldn't be a dummkopf and repeat those phrases. Though it was hard to ignore, Hannah made sure to not speak like that in front of her parents.

Memories of her parents seemed to flood her mind, even the ones Hannah usually couldn't remember. She lived in a small, but simple little house in the busy streets of Berlin. Since both of her parents were very smart and hard-working people, they didn't struggle as much after the events of the Great War. Hannah was well aware that most people were struggling and living off of whatever they could fend for. However, she had food on her table every day and didn't have to worry. Hitler thought that they didn't understand real true suffering, but that changed ever since the Nuremberg Laws were passed.

As the train rattled on, the rhythm of the wheels nearly lulled her into a slumber. She wanted to sleep. Her mother had woken her early this morning. At the thought of her mother, a knife stabbed Hannah's heart, jogging all the memories she'd tried to forget back into place. Her sluggish mind focused on nothing but her weariness, slowly making her memories hazy. The noise around her slowly deafened as her mind's theatre played a series of short films. She remembered when she'd tried to enter the park and been told she wasn't allowed, and that day when her teacher had called her to the front of the class and dismissed her as sub-human.

It was impossible to be accepted in Germany as a Jew. This caused her to wonder if she was going to have a hard time being in England because she was from Germany. She always heard of Jews being tortured just for their religion. Sephardic Jews who dared not to convert to Christianity in Spain were banished or persecuted. According to the Torah, Jews were enslaved by the Egyptians (the whole story of Moses was confusing to her, no matter how many times she heard it on Passover). Now Hannah was on her own exodus along with more than a hundred Jewish children.

As a dark curtain fell over her war-torn world, Hannah slept. In a few days, she thought, I'll be in England. There, I'll be safe. There, I'll be free. With that, the train swept her away from the German border and into the unknown.