When I was in college in the early 90s, I met an older woman (one of the oldest people in our classes) who was a German immigrant who would tell me stories of what growing up as a child in Nazi Germany was like, and how that war affected her and her playmates. Til then, I’d only ever read about what the Germans did wrong to everyone else. I hadn’t heard about the things they did to their own people, including their children.

I fondly remember visiting her lovely old ranch just outside the city (this is the Midwest) where she had a herd of sheep, geese that tried to eat my clothes, and a giant fish pond! She’s not here any more, and she isn’t my ancestor, but i still cherish her memory.