A Drop of Rain by Heather Kirk Page A

who help others. Many people leave food on the edge of the forest and in the cemeteries. This food is for Jews and partisans who are hiding, cold, hungry and afraid.
    The partisans are a kind of Polish soldier. Daddy is a soldier. He is away somewhere fighting the Nazis. We don’t know where.
    Yes, people help other people. At least, some people do. I hear the grownups talking about it.
    One night after curfew, a woman runs through the village with her baby in her arms. The baby is sick.The woman is so worried about her baby, that she forgets about the curfew. She forgets that the Nazis shoot you dead, no questions asked, if they see you on the street after a certain time.
    That woman is a Catholic, like us. But it is Jews who save her. The Jews pull that woman and her baby inside their house, before the soldiers see them.
Eva
    I should listen to Naomi more. I don’t give her enough credit for her good sense. She is maturing rapidly, and she is intelligent in different ways from Hanna and me. Whereas Hanna and I are logical, Naomi is intuitive. Naomi sensed Doctor Kowalska’s wisdom and brought her here to help. Yet she just thinks of Doctor Kowalska as a new friend, as “Mary.”
    Hanna is relieved to have her own doctor here. She enjoys talking to a fellow countrywoman in her native language.
    It’s not merely that Doctor Kowalska is familiar and Polish. She also understands what Hanna has gone through here. Both women are brilliant professionals who have been forced to do menial labour in Canada. Both have been plunged from the top to the bottom of society. Both feel powerless, yet both have much to offer. They see so much. They have so much to say, so much wisdom that mainstream Canadians could learn from. Yet they are marginalized.
    Dr. Kowalska says she’ll come and visit Hanna as often as she can. She says she’ll bring her some Polish dishes to eat. And a Warsaw newspaper from a Polishshop in Mapleville that I didn’t even know about. And she’ll chat with Hanna. I am so relieved. Hanna has been asking for dishes that I don’t know how to make. The other day it was
kasza
. I had some buckwheat that I’d bought in a health food store, so I boiled it up. But Hanna couldn’t eat it. Then, when I tried to cook potato pancakes, Hanna couldn’t eat those either. (Dr. K. says the cancer may already have spread to Hanna’s stomach and brain.)
    Hanna never cared about traditional Polish food before now. When we were together, we took turns cooking the simplest things, like scrambled eggs. Anything quick, inexpensive and nutritious. Mind, heart and soul were more important than body.

    Here is another of Hanna’s scribbled notes. It was in one of the boxes. It is undated. I find it harrowing.
    I looked at my watch: ten minutes past eleven. It began to rain a bit. I walked quickly from the ______ subway station north on ______ Street.
    In front of the entrance of ______ where the Ministry of Health and Social Services is located, a group of people formed a circle; the placards moved in a ring.
    I began to understand the slogans. Among others: “They talk and we die.”
    A knife stroke in my heart.
    For me it was not a slogan.
    I know well what that means.
Joe
    Took Eva and the boys to see
Star Wars
. We didn’t tell Naomi we were taking Jeff and Jerry. I think Eva is too sensitive about Naomi’s feelings.
    But what do I know about teenage girls?
    Eva didn’t try to get close to the boys. She spoke to them politely, almost as though they were adults.
    Eva thinks I’m “great” with Naomi. Evidently Naomi does not agree. Nevertheless, I seem to perceive that Naomi is becoming slightly less hostile.
    But I’m probably wrong.
    At least the boys like me. Had a great day with them Sunday. No time for my photography, only for their hockey and homework. Big expedition to the library.
    Is my growing cynicism about teaching part of the