Georgia Hunter Quotes
“The exercise of deciding where to go next is difficult. Because next most likely means a new forever. It means thinking about where to settle. Where to start over. During the war, their options were fewer, the stakes higher, their mission singular. It was simple, in a way. Keep your chin down, your guard up. Stay one step ahead. Stay alive for one more day. Don't let the enemy win. To think about a long-term plan feels complicated, and burdensome, like flexing an atrophied muscle.”
“Months later, in a different world, Nechuma will look back on this evening, the last Passover when they were nearly all together, and wish with every cell in her body that she could relive it. She will remember the familiar smell of the gefilte, the chink of silver on porcelain, the taste of parsley, briny and bitter on her tongue. She will long for the touch of Felicia's baby-soft skin, the weight of Jakob's hand on hers beneath the table, the wine-induced warmth in the pit of her belly that begged her to believe that everything might actually turn out all right in the end. She will remember how happy Halina had looked at the piano after their meal, how they had danced together, how they all spoke of missing Addy, assuring each other that he'd be home soon. She will replay it all, over and over again, every beautiful moment of it, and savor it, like the last perfect klapsa pears of the season.”
“And if all goes well, in due time they'll be allowed to emigrate to the United States. To America. The word sings when the speak it - of freedom, of opportunity, of the chance to start anew. America. Sometimes it sounds too perfect, like the last note of a nocturne that hovers, suspended in time, before inevitably growing faint and disappearing.”
“What matters, she tells herself, is that even on the hardest days, when the grief is so heavy she can barely breathe, she must carry on. She must get up, get dressed, and go to work. She will take each day as it comes. She will keep moving. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO Mila and Felicia Warsaw, German-Occupied Poland ~ February 1943 When her mother told her she had finally found a safe place for her to live—a convent, she called it—Felicia was dubious.”
“her world was torn to shreds. She’d watched from then on as every basic truth of the life she once knew—her home, her family, her safety—was thrown to the wind. Now, those fragments of her past have begun to drift back down to earth, and for the first time in over half a decade she has allowed herself to believe that, with time and patience, she might just be able to stitch together a semblance of what was. It will never be the same—she’s wise enough to understand that. But they are here, and for the most part, together, which has begun to feel like something of a miracle.”
“something hard, she presses her lips together just in time to silence a yelp that nearly escapes her throat. “Move!” the guard yells, but marches by without stopping. Finally, Mila senses a structure overhead. They are beneath the main entrance—the arched vehicle gate. A gust of wind lashes at their backs and Mila reaches for her hat to keep it from blowing away. She tugs its brim low over her brow and glances down at Felicia, who is white in the face but whose expression is remarkably calm. Stay focused, Mila reminds herself. You’re so close! Count your steps. One . . . two . . . They creep backward. Three . . .”
- Born: in Plainville, The United States.
- Description: When Georgia Hunter was fifteen years old, she learned that she came from a family of Holocaust survivors. We Were the Lucky Ones was born of her quest to uncover her family’s staggering history. Georgia’s site, www.georgiahunterauthor.com, offers a behind-the-scenes glimpse at the extensive research this project has entailed. She lives in Connecticut with her husband and their two sons.