Sometimes it was hard to remember life before we fled the pogrom, although the endless foot slog and almost perpetual hunger served to remind us that we were welcome nowhere.
It was black winter when we fell in with a group of apostates. They had firewood, wagons, food, and they seemed willing to share.
Once we were warm and fed, Mother called us to her.
“The master says we can stay with this wagon train if I…”
“Can you?” Japheth asked.
“I can do anything to keep warm.”
When spring came we left, but Mother and the little ones stayed.
Working Title Blogspot 
A reality of life for many, I fear.
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