Guided

She is just a child of ten or eleven when the soldiers come. Before then, her world was one of blissful days spent on her family’s land, working the fields and tending to the garden. But her life changes forever on the night her mother wakes her in the cold, dark hours before dawn and hands her over to a stranger in a truck, with tearful promises to meet her once it is safe.

That is the last time she ever sees her mother alive. While in settling into her new life in a crowded house, the young girl receives a vision that leads her to safety and tells her to seek a religious life. She makes her way to an abbey and pursues her unexpected new calling. There, she learns that in times of war, safety and happiness are not necessarily the same. But just as she had trusted her mother, she trusts her angels to keep her safe.

Based on a past-life experience from World War II, Guided explores the timeless quest for life’s true meaning, especially when faced with loss and fear.

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Guided

She is just a child of ten or eleven when the soldiers come. Before then, her world was one of blissful days spent on her family’s land, working the fields and tending to the garden. But her life changes forever on the night her mother wakes her in the cold, dark hours before dawn and hands her over to a stranger in a truck, with tearful promises to meet her once it is safe.

That is the last time she ever sees her mother alive. While in settling into her new life in a crowded house, the young girl receives a vision that leads her to safety and tells her to seek a religious life. She makes her way to an abbey and pursues her unexpected new calling. There, she learns that in times of war, safety and happiness are not necessarily the same. But just as she had trusted her mother, she trusts her angels to keep her safe.

Based on a past-life experience from World War II, Guided explores the timeless quest for life’s true meaning, especially when faced with loss and fear.

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Guided

Guided

by Gemma Keatley
Guided

Guided

by Gemma Keatley

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Overview

She is just a child of ten or eleven when the soldiers come. Before then, her world was one of blissful days spent on her family’s land, working the fields and tending to the garden. But her life changes forever on the night her mother wakes her in the cold, dark hours before dawn and hands her over to a stranger in a truck, with tearful promises to meet her once it is safe.

That is the last time she ever sees her mother alive. While in settling into her new life in a crowded house, the young girl receives a vision that leads her to safety and tells her to seek a religious life. She makes her way to an abbey and pursues her unexpected new calling. There, she learns that in times of war, safety and happiness are not necessarily the same. But just as she had trusted her mother, she trusts her angels to keep her safe.

Based on a past-life experience from World War II, Guided explores the timeless quest for life’s true meaning, especially when faced with loss and fear.


Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781452513348
Publisher: Balboa Press AU
Publication date: 03/02/2014
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: eBook
Pages: 70
File size: 170 KB

Read an Excerpt

Guided


By Gemma Keatley

Balboa Press

Copyright © 2014 Gemma Keatley
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4525-1333-1



CHAPTER 1

A Story


I was young, a girl of maybe ten or eleven, when the soldiers came, and it's funny now that I think back to those days, I can only remember them through the eyes of a child.

But where do I start? Well, I suppose with the most important part.

I remember my mother, with her coppery red hair and slight frame, always working hard on the farm. I remember my father, big and strong, working out in the field. Looking back now, I find it strange that I was not blessed with brothers and sisters, but I think it was not for lack of trying. I remember a plot of garden with several wooden crosses lovingly laid with flowers.

Sometimes in the evening, I would sneak a peek out of the window and see my mother crying in the garden. She would compose herself before her return, but when she tucked me in at night and kissed me so gently, I could feel that her face was still wet.

One night, my mother called me to her, and we sat in front of the hearth. She pulled me up on her lap and told me a story. She said that all would be well because I was not "Jewish," but that some soldiers were coming and it was best that we were away when they arrived. She told me not to worry, but her brow was furrowed.

I asked where my father was, and she said he was seeing a man about a secure passage. I had no idea what any of these things were, but some of the boys in the neighbouring village had started playing soldiers some time ago, and they did lots of hitting and shouting and shooting with guns, so I agreed to be a good girl and take a passage. Whatever that might involve.

The next morning, my mother woke me early. I was used to being up at daybreak to milk the cows, but this was even earlier. It felt like the middle of the night. My mother fed me the biggest breakfast I had ever seen, although it was hard to have an appetite when it was so early.

After breakfast, she carried our cases out into the laneway, and we waited. And waited. And waited.

After what seemed like ages, we saw a truck come up the laneway. It was old and rickety with a large, open truck bed at the back. As the man pulled up, I noticed the children. So many children. All ages, all sizes, and all colours, all sitting in the open air at the back of the truck.

The man apologised, said he had run into some trouble, and said that the job was going to be harder than he first thought. He pulled my mother aside, and she began to yell at the man. "You agreed!" she cried with desperation in her voice. "We've given you all we have!"

The man waited. "There's just no room," he said.

"Well, make room!" my mother screamed. I had never seen her so angry and upset. She stormed into the house and came out with a small package. It looked like my grandmother's old jewellery box. Out of it, she took my grandmother's pearls and her engagement ring. "Keep her safe," she said firmly to the man as she handed over our family's most precious treasures.

With that agreed upon, my mother hugged me tightly and helped me into the back of the truck.

"What about you?" I asked.

She smiled and said, "Daddy and I will meet you there very soon."

I felt uneasy, but I had never had reason to doubt her. So off I went, smiling and waving through a trail of dust.

That was the last time I ever saw my mother alive.

CHAPTER 2

The River


The long ride to the river was quite enjoyable. There were eighteen of us in all, crammed into a small space, and we laughed and jostled ourselves and each other as we went over the bumpy roads.

The morning air was crisp and icy, a good clue that it was going to be a glorious, sunny day. All the bustling around and the fresh air were making me suddenly hungry, and I couldn't wait to get to our destination so I could unpack the sandwiches that my mother had placed in my case earlier that day.

Around midmorning, we arrived at the riverbank. We all unloaded ourselves, and there was an air of excitement as we wondered what was next.

The man, our driver, got us to unload a wooden raft from the truck, and I giggled as I realised we had been sitting on it the whole time and had not recognised what it was. We all helped haul it from the back of the truck and into the water. One by one, we were instructed to climb on board.

It was quite a sight as we scrambled and wobbled and bobbed about. Some of us squealed when water began sloshing over the sides, and I'm sure I was not the only one with a wet bottom. Eventually, we were all aboard, with our cases all lined up neatly on the riverbank waiting to be loaded.

In the distance, down the road, we could see a trail of dust. On the other side of the river, we began to hear the bark of dogs and distant shouts. We wondered what was happening.

The man began to rush. Jumping onto the raft with several oars, he pushed it off farther into the current and yelled at the children to take the other three oars and paddle.

I stared in horror at my case, which was now getting farther and farther away. I thought of my dry clothes and my sandwiches. A moment later, however, my attention shifted to a far more serious situation.

On each side of the riverbank were soldiers. Lots of them. All in uniforms and hats, shouting at us to get out of the water. They looked furious, and their dogs were even more frightening. There were at least six dogs, drooling and snarling with a viciousness I had never encountered before.

A moment later, the men released the dogs and they charged into the water, still barking furiously and heading right for us.

Suddenly, it dawned on me that they were here for us, that there was no misunderstanding, that they did not want us out of the water because it was dangerous. They were the dangerous ones.

It was at the same moment that the little girl next to me realised the same thing, and in a frozen moment of fear, the oar she was holding slipped from her fingers and was immediately swept away.

The man was strange. He looked slowly at the girl, and he looked at the oar being sucked under the swirling water by the current. He never yelled or even spoke a word.

He glanced over at the men on the riverbanks, then at the dogs in the water, and finally back at our terrified faces. He paused and seemed to be weighing everything up.

"It's OK," he finally said, his voice expressionless. "It's all OK."

With that, he removed his white shirt and tied it carefully and deliberately around his oar and held it above his head.

CHAPTER 3

A Very Crowded House


The soldiers threw a rope to the man, and we were pulled ashore. We were dragged from the raft and herded up the road. Some of the unlucky ones were bitten by the dogs, and others who fell behind were hit with sticks.

We walked for miles that day. Cold, wet, hungry, tired, and sore. The older ones held hands with the younger ones and helped them along. We were forced to toilet ourselves on the side of the road in full view of everyone. It was humiliating, but for the most part, we became too tired to care.

We walked well into the afternoon. We walked as the sun set, and we walked as the moon rose. Finally, up ahead, we saw some lights.

We stumbled along until we arrived at a farmhouse, where we were permitted to wash up and eat. We had bread and soup, and though I don't remember what type of soup it was, it was the best that I had ever tasted.

The fire warmed my aching bones, and as we were sent to bed with six children in each—three at the head and three at the foot—I said a silent prayer to God to thank him for delivering me to this place safely and in one piece. I closed my eyes and sank blissfully into oblivion.

CHAPTER 4

A New Order


We were woken early by a strong-looking, heavyset woman who seemed very matter-of-fact. She gathered us into the kitchen where large loaves of fresh bread were sitting on the table still steaming.

She looked us all in the eye and told us that we were in her house now, which meant following her rules. There would be roll call in the morning and roll call in the evening. If anyone was missing, all would go hungry until the missing child was found. We would work and we would work hard, and there would be no complaining. Anyone caught stealing, fighting, or generally misbehaving would be whipped.

She finished her little speech with, "Is that understood?"

After we had all offered up a chorus of, "Yes, missus," she seemed quite pleased with herself and maybe even a little surprised that it had gone so well. She wiped her hands on her apron and said, "Right then, let's eat."

And so began our life in the crowded house.

The woman never explained who she was, or whose side she was on, and I had a very hard time trying to work out who the enemy actually was and what was really going on.

I decided that the enemy was someone who treated you badly and hurt you, and this woman didn't seem to be doing either. So I moved her out of the enemy category and put her in the boss category as someone to be minded.

The soldiers from the raft I was also unsure about. They were frightening and they did set their dogs on us and hit us with sticks, but overall, I'm not sure that they were enemies either. This whole war business seemed very complicated to me.

My days in the crowded house were long and happy. We all missed home and still had no word as to what was happening in the world and what it meant for us. But we soon settled into a routine and a rhythm. Life, as it so often does, just became a new kind of normal.

In the mornings (and again in the afternoons), it was my job to milk the cow. She was a beautiful thing. Placid and friendly, it always surprised me how she alone managed to produce enough milk for the woman and eighteen hungry children. I used to talk with her often about my day, about life before the crowded house, and about my hopes and dreams of the future, for when I got back home to my mother and father.

She didn't talk back much, but she would occasionally give a bit of a moo, which I interpreted as an amen to what I had been saying.

After breakfast, it was my job to supervise the younger ones and help them to do their chores. We cleaned and we scrubbed. We aired out the beds, and we washed all the sheets by hand and hung them out to dry. We swept and we polished, and when we were done, we started on the lunch.

The little ones looked up to me, I think, and I had a real soft spot for each of them. They knew that I could be counted on to kiss a sore bit better or offer a kind word. I didn't yell and curse at them as much as some of the older children did, and I think they found some small comfort in this.

The days were busy, and there never seemed to be a moment to rest. However, in the afternoons, I was lucky. It was my job to gather wood for the fire. The boys did all the hard chopping, but I was allowed to wander off and collect kindling each day. Maybe the woman saw some value in my work in keeping the household running, so she granted me this reprieve each afternoon.

After my afternoon kindling expeditions, it was back to milk the cow again and to help the little ones prepare the dinner. This was a lively time full of excited chatter about the day and usually how good it was to have something to eat.

It was in the evenings though that the children raised their fears. As we huddled together in our beds, some would whimper quietly and others would talk about what-if. What if we never get home? What if the soldiers come for us again? What if ...? In order to calm their fears, I would tell them stories, always something funny or with a happy ending, and I would help them to say their prayers.

I would tell them that the prayers of children are stronger than any other and that God always answers the prayers of children first. Then we would all, the older children included, put our prayers together, to make them super strong.

We all slept soundly after that.

CHAPTER 5

Berries


One afternoon, I was out gathering twigs when I spied in the distance what looked like a berry patch. It was quite a distance away through the trees, so I couldn't be sure. I usually foraged much closer to the farmhouse, but today the sun was shining and the air was delicious and warm. I thought of how exciting it would be to return home with enough juicy berries to feed us all, and my mind was made up.

I was so excited that I had been right about the berry patch that I was soon lost in the task of picking. I had eaten until my stomach was near bursting, and I now had an apron overflowing with them.

I wiped the sweat from my brow and sat on the cool grass under the shade of a nearby tree to rest. I began to wonder where we would have ended up if the soldiers hadn't come and our little raft had been allowed to float unhindered to our destination. It seemed to me that we had ended up in a place that seemed safe enough. The rules and consequences were clear and everybody had their part to play. The woman was kind to us, and it was so lovely to be surrounded with children and their laughter.

Little did I realise it was all about to change.

CHAPTER 6

A Dream


I must have drifted off to sleep because the surroundings suddenly looked different. Lighter and shimmering. A woman appeared before me, and I stared in wonder as I realised that it was my mother. She looked radiant—healthy and strong, her coppery hair shining in the sunlight. Around her neck, she wore my grandmother's pearls, and on her finger was her engagement ring.

"Darling, you must listen to me now. I'm going to tell you a story," she said.

"OK," I murmured.

"You must not go back to the crowded house. It is no longer safe. You must go instead to the highest hill to where the abbey sits. Listen for the bells. You must tell them that an angel has sent you and that you are to do God's work within the abbey's walls."

"Do you understand me? You will be safe then."

"OK," I murmured again, sleepily.

"I love you," she whispered. And then, just as magically as she had arrived, she was gone.

I awoke with a start and looked around to see where she could have gone. She left me with such a feeling of peace and calm, even though the words she spoke were disturbing.

As a child, I had sometimes had visions of angels who would tell me things, but I usually dismissed them as being fanciful imagination. This vision had been so vivid and real though, and it made me realise just how much I missed home.

I gathered up the berries that had fallen out of my apron and began to walk back to the crowded house, wanting to hear what the children would think of my mother's warning.

I was just approaching the clearing when I heard a gunshot ring out. It cracked through the air so loudly that I was momentarily deafened. I began to run towards that house but stopped dead in my tracks as I saw a scene of horror before me.

Out the front of the house were soldiers. They had no dogs this time, but they didn't need them. The children were lined up against the wall of the farmhouse. The woman was pleading and arguing and yelling at the men, and on the ground in a pool of blood was our cow.

I just stood there frozen with my mouth open. At first, I couldn't make sense of anything. Our cow? Why would anyone want to hurt our cow? That's when I saw the trucks. They had come for the children. They had come to take the children and the woman wouldn't let them. So they took something else. In that moment, I knew who the enemy was.

The woman screamed, and a soldier hit her hard across the face. Even from a distance hiding behind the trees, I heard the crack, and she fell lifeless to the ground. She did not move.

The soldiers pointed their guns at the children. At my children. They hit them and poked them with their guns, and they forced them into the trucks.

All I could do was watch, paralysed and completely helpless, as the enemy took my family away.

When the last of the trucks had left, I crumpled to the ground, daring to breathe for the first time. Tears streamed down my face as I contemplated what had just happened. The woman was still not moving, and neither was my beautiful cow.

The life that I had known was now over, and as I prayed to God for help, my mother's voice came back loud and clear. "Go to the highest hill where the abbey sits. Listen for the bells."

What bells? I called out in my mind, and that's when I heard them. Very faintly, I heard them pealing. It may have been my imagination, but it was enough. I turned in the opposite direction of the crowded house. With just me and my berries, I started to walk.

CHAPTER 7

A New Direction


The first night was the worst. I was completely unprepared for outdoor living. I had dressed lightly when I set off to collect the berries, and I had been too terrified to go back to the crowded house to pack anything for my journey. At least the weather had been mild.

I walked as far and as fast as I could in the moonlight, and then I slept under the cover of trees until the day's break.

The next day, I came across another farmhouse that was abandoned. I could only assume that the soldiers had not just come for us but for others as well. Their poor cow remained unmilked, and their chickens were raucously squawking for food.


(Continues...)

Excerpted from Guided by Gemma Keatley. Copyright © 2014 Gemma Keatley. Excerpted by permission of Balboa Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

Contents

Chapter 1 A Story, 1,
Chapter 2 The River, 5,
Chapter 3 A Very Crowded House, 9,
Chapter 4 A New Order, 11,
Chapter 5 Berries, 15,
Chapter 6 A Dream, 17,
Chapter 7 A New Direction, 21,
Chapter 8 The Abbey, 23,
Chapter 9 Mother Superior, 25,
Chapter 10 A Rude Awakening, 29,
Chapter 11 Home, 33,
Chapter 12 A New Home, 35,
Chapter 13 A Baby, 37,
Chapter 14 A New Room, 39,
Chapter 15 The Most Beautiful Rose, 41,
Chapter 16 School, 43,
Chapter 17 A Teacher, 45,
Chapter 18 Big Changes, 47,
Chapter 19 Deeper and Deeper, 49,
Chapter 20 A Better Life, 51,
Chapter 21 My Beautiful Bells, 53,
Epilogue, 55,
About Guided, 57,

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