Love Made Visible

The Commitment
Even though my world looked bleak in many ways, I had a mindset filled with idealism, longing to see the world wholesome and beautiful.
One afternoon, three of my classmates and I kept discussing all kinds of things relevant to our present situation. We were only seventeen, and it seemed we did not have a future by looking at the heaps of rubble two stories high all around us. I vaguely remembered how the city of Bochum had looked before the war. But now, how was I supposed to envision how things would be, could be, or even should be? The future seemed hopeless. When the question of what we were going to do with our lives now, came up, one of the girls said, “I am going to marry a dentist”. This response, as far as I was concerned, was so out of place and did not match my train of thought. I knew she did not get it. When it was my turn, I stood there very quietly for a second or two, with my hands drawn to my chest and proclaimed with an impassioned voice, “I want to do something good for mankind.” It sounded like a vow, and while I was unable to name it, because it did not have Gestalt and clarity yet, the desire was pure, springing from a place deep down in my heart, as an antidote to hopelessness and pain. I was not about to become a victim of my circumstance. Rather, I wanted to make a difference. Instead of being content with this situation, I was determined to build something good out of all that was bad. I was not certain at this point what I was going to do, or even how, but I knew I was going to do something good.
The scars of war, still in their rawness, were a sad reminder every day. Houses were still boarded up and heaps of rubble were everywhere. My skinny body was proof of a severe food shortage. I do not like to remember the time when the only food ration of the day was a can of corn, not sweet, but old and bitter. My outgrown clothes could not be replaced, the stores were all empty, bombed or plundered. Some people made good use of old Nazi uniforms, freshly dyed black. None of that was found in our household.
And the day came when I told my father I had saved up enough money to start my pre-school training. He was genuinely surprised, and still regarded my choice worthless. In his opinion, I was not even on the first sprung of an educator’s ladder, but nothing could deter me, I was ready to follow my dream.