By Martha Muncy '64

Hans Hammerschmidt was only eight. His home in East Berlin was not any better or worse than hundreds of others; the two rooms were small and crowded for his parents, two sisters, and himself.

Hans, like all young boys of East Berlin, remembers nothing of the days when Germany was one nation. He saw the look of pleasure in the eyes of his parents as they talked together of the days that used to be. At Christmas there was more talking and reminiscing about days gone by than usual. Father looked worried as he left for work early in the morning and returned after dark, and mother cried more too.

Hans walked next to the 'terrible' each day on his way to and from school. He really did not understand why, but 'terrible' was the way his parents referred to those guards with their guns and the wall that they walked beside. He did understand t h a t Grandfather and Grandmother were somewhere on the other side of the I wall. Hans also knew that whenever he asked his mother and father, "When will we see our grandparents?" they became very sad and shook their heads.

When Hans returned from school today, there was more activity than usual along the wall. The soldiers, racing from post to post, conversed excitedly, and the guards were standing with bayonets poised. Hans

could hear music coming from across the wall loud and clear. "Silent Night," "Little Town of Bethlehem," and the friendly voice of Kris Kringle filled the air. Through the wall openings, he could see huge, beautiful green pine trees brightly colored with lights and ornaments. The sight of this excitement and the sounds from across the wall were almost more than an eight year old could take. As he burst through the door at home, he was crying, "Mother! Father! Frieda! Gretel! Something wonderful, something terrible is happening!" In excited phrases he explained what he had seen and heard to his mother and his sisters. Hans repeated this explanation to his father when he got home. Mother's cheeks got wetter, his sisters looked sadder, and Father only shook his head.

When they had finished their evening meal, Frieda got the Bible and read the story of Christmas to Hans. The whole time Frieda was reading the story, Hans sat with wide eyes and an open mouth. Mother and Father tried to explain the story of Christmas to Hans.

Father then put Hans to bed and told him that someday there would be a real Christmas again. Father was standing at an open window and heard "Silent Night" being played in West Berlin. He wept silently. Then, turning to Hans, who slept, his father said, "Someday you'll know and understand the real joy of Christmas."