The White Ribbon Page #3

I see. She was dead.

What's that?

What?

Dead.

What's "dead"?

Quite a question!

It's when one doesn't live anymore.

When one has stopped living.

When does one stop living?

When one is very old, or very ill.

And the woman?

She had an accident.

An "accident"?

Yes. It's when you're badly hurt.

Like Dad?

Yes, but much worse than that.

So bad,

your body can't take it anymore.

And then you're dead ?

Yes.

But most people

don't have an accident.

- So they're not dead.

- No, they die much later.

When?

Well... later,

when they're really old.

Does everyone die?

Yes.

Everyone, really?

Yes, everyone has to die.

But not you, Anni?

Me too.

Everyone.

But not Dad?

Dad too.

Me too?

You too.

But not for a very long time.

All of us, only in a very long time.

One can't fight it?

It has to happen?

Yes, but not for a very long time.

And Mom?

She didn't go on a trip?

Is she dead too?

Yes.

She's dead too.

But that was a long time ago.

Klara!

Martin, you coming?

Karli?

You can come in.

What is it?

- What do you think?

- I don't know.

It's a boy.

What? Don't you want a brother?

Lucky your father didn't hear you.

I'm sorry.

They knew it was dangerous for her.

What do you want?

You want to sue the Baron?

Or murder the steward?

Go cut off his head

with your scythe!

Won't bring your mother

back to life.

Father, you loved our mother.

Shut up!

After those two days in July,

life in the village

got back to normal.

The daily harvesting chores

exhausted everyone.

Most of the kids pitched in

to help their parents.

I took up the steward's offer

to be his secretary

during the harvesting,

as I hoped it would enable me

to see the young girl again.

I couldn't get her out of my mind

after our meeting.

But she rarely came out

of the manor house.

The doctor was still

in the hospital.

Anna and Rudolf, his two children,

were cared for meanwhile

by the midwife.

After the farmer's wife's funeral,

that the whole village attended,

both accidents were forgotten.

Until the end of the summer

when the harvest feast

reunited the whole village,

first in a joyful mood,

then in horror and perplexity.

My thanks to all of you.

You have worked well.

The heavens were kind

and the barns are full.

So the beer can flow,

and you won't starve today!

Long live the Baron!

Long may he live!

Most honorable Baron

and Baroness,

dear merrymakers...

Let us hear on this festive occasion

Psalm 145, Verse 15:

"The eyes of all wait upon thee, Lord;

"and thou givest them their meat

in due season...."

In the name of the Father,

the Son,

and the Holy Ghost.

Amen.

Now enjoy your meal.

Eat and drink to your fill!

You earned it!

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