“I clearly remember the German occupation of Transylvania.” said my grandmother. “I would like to feel that it wasn't a coincidence the sky was dark, bringing a stronger feeling of terror. “I saw depression in their eyes. My mother told me not all of them were bad people but they were forced to join the Nazi force. Some of the people had strict faces other sad, and others were young and cheerful. I had started crying and one of the soldiers stepped out of line to give me some candy and I understood not all of them were bad.” She mumbled with a tear of sadness in her heart. “I remember on that day my mother sent me to get a new clay pot to replace the one I broke on my way home from the store to get milk. The way I broke it was a carriage passed by and there would be two sticks sticking out the back and I would always grab onto those sticks and hang on to them like a sloth barely moving. And every time the pot would fall out and I would start sobbing to my grandmother saying sorry.” She said “Those were the happiest times of my life... on the farm.”
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