I actually said a little prayer of my own then, my first since we had arrived: Please, God—get me out of this nuthouse! - Jane Yolen

Overhead the swallows dipped down to catch bugs rising from the ground. Then they soared back up beyond the barracks. Hannah watched them for a moment, scarcely breathing. It was as if all nature ignored what went on in the camp. There were brilliant sunsets and soft breezes. Around the commandant’s house, bright flowers were teased by the wind. Once she’d seen a fox cross the meadow to disappear into the forest.

For what was art, she thought, but the heart and soul made visible.

Wars may make heroes of men, but not all the time.