Memories XIII - Conclusion

I was woken out of my story telling revere by the snores of tiny Bea, Oliver, and Jonah. I smiled fondly down at them. Better that they had not heard the end of my story. For them it was just that. A story. And they had stopped listening soon enough that they could invent the  ending in their heads, make it into a fairytale. But the story hadn’t ended with the deaths of all the key members of the White Rose Society. I had made sure they would be remembered, just as I had promised. Making a deal in the dead of the night with a British Pilot, I gave him copies of the sixth leaflet, with the instructions to make more copies and drop them over Germany. It had been done.  In mid-1943, they dropped millions of copies over Germany, retitled The Manifesto of the Students of Munich. I ran away to America then, not being able to stand the memories that were evoked by my surroundings. I fell in love again, and had one child, my daughter. Just then, the door creaked open and my daughter tiptoed in. Smiling at the petite forms curled on the rug, she padded quietly over to me and kissed me on the cheek.

“Thank you so much, mum. Work was grueling today, and they always have more fun when you’re watching them,” she whispered. I smiled back

“Anything for you, my lovely Sophie,” I said, looking down at the picture of her namesake, my dearest friend, and I could almost feel her smiling at me as she whispered

“The sun still shines, Bea, the sun still shines.”