“We’ll keep a watch out for him,” the caregiver answered.
“Léopold Praly was in church on Sunday,” Trocmé added.
“He’s surely reporting everything we say to the prefect. Several members of the congregation have told me the police have questioned and threatened them.”
“Let’s not allow our worries to get the best of us. It’s better to trust than to fret. Let’s keep the children hidden in homes tonight and then bring them back up the mountain in the morning. We’ll keep a low profile and won’t hold classes until things calm down. None of the children should be out and about in town,” Trocmé told the men.
The group of children followed the men as they headed back down the mountain. Trocmé let Jacob and Moses catch up to him.
“Jean-Pierre has asked after you two. When things calm down, we’d like you to come over for a meal. Magda is a wonderful cook.”
“Thank you, sir . . . pastor,” Jacob said.
Trocmé chuckled. “You can call me André. A few days ago I spoke with Mr. Perrot. He said they will continue their efforts, but as yet they have been unable to secure either visas or passage for you. Perhaps in a few months things will have calmed down in the country, but until then, it will be impossible to leave France.”
Jacob was happy to hear their friends in Valence remembered them and were still trying to help them.
“He also told me he’d received a letter from your parents. They have arrived in Buenos Aires. In a few days, the letter will come for you sent by Mr. Vipond, telling you some details about where they have settled for now.”
Moses whooped for joy, jumped, and clasped Trocmé in a euphoric embrace. The pastor, typically serious, burst out laughing. He had been raised in a rather strict Protestant family that kept a tight rein on their emotions. But Magda, with Italian blood in her veins, had slowly managed to loosen him up enough to express his feelings.
Jacob studied the town from their vantage point on the mountain. Scattered houses among trees eventually led to the few streets that made up the entirety of the commune that was Le Chambon-sur-Lignon. He could see the Catholic church, the town hall, the Protestant church, and the train station. The gray of the stone buildings stood out against the dark green of the forests. It was a small spark of heaven in the midst of war’s inferno, a place of refuge for thousands of every tongue and nation.
Trocmé halted, Moses still in his arms, and held his hand out to Jacob. He was no longer a child, but even so, Jacob squeezed the pastor’s smooth, soft palm. He admired the man. In that loving, pacifist heart, Jacob sensed a kind of courage it was hard to find on earth and that he desperately wanted to have when he was older: the courage to be willing to die for those he loved and to be able to love even his enemies.
Chapter 23
Le Chambon-sur-Lignon
November 20, 1942
The loss of Algiers to the Allies and the sinking of the French fleet led to the German occupation of the formerly unoccupied zone of France. The French officials at Vichy continued overseeing some aspects of governance, but the Germans controlled the nation’s land, borders, and resources. The Gestapo commenced the purging of southern France, especially Marseille, where hundreds of refugees had hidden with the hope of fleeing to Africa or the United States.
The arrival of hundreds of exiles to Le Chambon-sur-Lignon and the surrounding villages had far surpassed the expectations of Trocmé and the coalition of pastors and organizations that provided assistance to the persecuted. There, the refugees hid in houses and hoped to continue their flight after the harsh winter that was coming.
Jacob and Moses spent a relatively peaceful couple of months in the Maison des Roches alongside their classmates, now under the care of André Trocmé’s cousin Daniel, but they did not dare walk alone to the church or the pastor’s home. Jean-Pierre came every afternoon to their boardinghouse and played until dark. The nights were getting colder and colder, the sunshine less intense in the day, and the first snows were accumulating on the mountaintops. Within a matter of weeks, winter would have completely isolated the valley.
That afternoon, the three boys were playing happily when Anna came up. She was trembling. Her brown dress and pink jacket were splotched with mud, and her eyes were raw and red