My parents and I had finally arrived at the harbour of Riga (Latvia). A small group of people were being loaded on a small cargo boat. Below the deck were prisoners reaching their hands through the barbed wire. The boat started to leave the harbour, the refugees were singing the national anthem “Dievs sveti Latviju”, ( God save Latvia). We were leaving the burning city on one side and facing the relentless sea on the other. There was no other choice……
My Christmas Eve had come to a sorrowful end, my brother was stolen from me by the invaders. I took a last look at the door, it was still open, my brother was gone. It had started to snow. Was it snow or Heaven crying for my brother? The house felt so cold and quiet, the presents laid under the dark Christmas tree, they were never opened. A few days later, the fire claimed the presents along with my childhood…..