A Brand New Sweater

The Germans came in over night. Everybody was screaming and running. It was horrid. Such confusion, everybody running. The schools were closed, and that was all very exciting. But then again, I guess we didn't realize what the problem was or what was in store for us. It was a hard time of five years we had through the German occupation. 

 

Now I go back to my 13th birthday. The was the day when a lot of things happened. That morning, my mother had given me a brand new sweater to wear. I had gone out to school feeling like everything was normal. The moring sun was shining on my new sweater as a marched along the path. Everyone was going to love my new gift, and I was eager to show it off. Once the initial excitment wore off, the school day was as long and boring as every other day I suppose. How I would come to miss those boring days. When the school bell rang I filed out with everyone else. Before heading back to home, I had to stop at the market to get a can of oil for mother.  We used it for cooking. It was on my way home that all the crazy broke out. German soliders were suddenly everywhere. The yelling and the screaming alarmed me and I began running as fast as I could for home. As a ran around a corner, some German soldier bumped into me. That cooking oil spilled all across my front. My brand new sweater was ruined. I pushed away from that man just as fast as I could and bolted. The invigorating fear of being that close to one of them making me fly. After what seemed like an eternity of waving through chaos, I collapsed inside the front door, my oil-covered chest heaving. My mother and sisters were at my side in a moment clamoring to know if I was hurt. In all the confusion and tears I could only shake my head. As soon as I could manage speech I lifted up the front of my sweater. "Can we mend it?" I breathed. My mother's shoulders slumped, her whole body did really. I remember she then looked me squarely in the eye and said, "Jacoba. The war is literally at our doorstep. We can no longer care about things as ruined sweaters."