Hitler's Birthday in the Hubermann House.

Today is Hitler's birthday and we were expected to celebrate like it was Christmas or Easter. We couldn't find our government issued Nazi flag for awhile. I hate flying that thing and every time I get to take it down I hope it is the last time I ever have to fly it. I must admit, I like to toss it in the back of a closet, somewhere I don't have to look at or think about it until the next time I have to display that despicable thing.

Our children came over for lunch. Of course, it was another opportunity for my son to drill me about if I've become a member of the Nazi party. Truth be told, I don't want to be a part of that party, but I finally submitted an application when I knew I could put off the inevitable no longer. I haven't heard anything back and he wants to know why I haven't tried again. I haven't tried again because I don't really want to be a member of a party that is persecuting people left and right. He should know that, but he keeps thinking he will be change my mind about the party. I hope I make it through this war and never have my application accepted. I hope it is lost forever.

My son, though, he has bought into their propaganda hook, line and sinker. He used to be such a sweet boy, but when he reached his teen years, our paths diverged. He began to believe in the poison they're spreading. Some of our biggest disagreements were over the fact that I continued to paint over slurs painted on the homes of Jews. I could not in good conscience allow innocent people to have their homes desecrated. He bought the idea that Jews are a stain on our society, but he has not lived enough life. I know better. I know they are no different than you and I. We are all human and nobody deserves that treatment. So, I must use my skills as a house painter to rectify wrongs.

He thinks I don't care about this country, but what he can't see yet, is that this will stain the reputation of our country forever. Forever.

Blog of Hans Hubermann as He Takes in Liesel Meminger and Teaches Her to Read.

Recently, Rosa and I decided to take in a young girl named Liesel. Things have been very tense politically here in Germany with the rise of the Nazi party. There is so much senseless hatred involved, but there is no way to disagree with them. I have been trying my best just to stay out of the way and off the radar of the Nazi party.  Having been through one war, I do not wish to see it again, especially not for a cause I don’t believe it. But sometimes, you feel like you must do something, so Rosa and I decided that we missed the life children brought to our household. We volunteered to take in a child whose parents could no longer care for them during this turmoil. Caring for Liesel feels like I am resisting the party just a little bit. I may not be a vocal critic, but I will care for the children of those who are. Like Liesel, she came to us because her parents were communists. Her father had been gone for quite some time, but her mother finally felt she could no longer safely stay here. Her brother was supposed to come with her, but sadly, he died along the way.

It saddens me to see the loss of both her mother and her brother in her eyes. And my dear Rosa, deep down she has a good heart, but she has a sharp tongue and a hard exterior. Adjusting to life with her cannot be easy for my grieving girl. So, I try to show her all the kindness I have. I know she sees the twinkle of approval in my eyes. And, I think I’m making progress because the other day, the most remarkable thing happened.

In the middle of the night, she had awoken in a night terror. I went in to comfort her and discovered she had wet the bed again. As we went to strip the sheets from her bed, a book fell out called The Grave Digger’s Handbook. I asked her if it belonged to her and she said, “Yes.” When I asked if she wanted to read it, she replied, “Yes,” again. And so, our lesson began. I am not the best of readers, but she couldn’t read at all, so we are a perfect match. We are slowly working through the book together. Yes, it may be about grave digging and she likely stole it from her brother’s burial, but nevertheless, she is learning. Nobody else has to know, but I know, I am helping a little girl find her way in the world whether Hitler likes it or not.