Life is not easy for nine-year-old Joshua during World War II. Because of his family's Jewish heritage, they are sentenced to live in the concentration camps. Scared and alone, Joshua tries to blend into the camp's background and stay in the barracks as long as he can, because he knows that many who leave them never come back. Recalling teachings about Jesus as their Lord and Savior, Joshua prays that God will send him a friend while he's held prisoner. One day, while trying to hide under the floorboards, Joshua meets a little mouse whom he calls Bethlehem. The tiny mouse befriends him; when the boy is taken to live with a German family-who has a nine-year-old son named Helmut-Bethlehem tags along. Although the boys become fast friends, Joshua isn't sure what will happen if Helmut ever discovers Bethlehem's existence. Will Bethlehem be sent away? Will Joshua? Although the cruelties of war eventually separate these unlikely friends, Joshua understands that Jesus is always there for him-no matter what his circumstances. He spends his life praying for his lost friends and acknowledges that he will see them again one day, whether in this life or the next.

Joshua, Helmut, and Bethlehem

By Michelle O. Donovan

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2011 Michelle O. Donovan
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4620-5867-9

Chapter One

Joshua crouched under a platform of rotten wooden planks. The boards served as a bed for the emaciated occupants of block number six. In this concentration camp, the shack's occupants faced daily torments and almost certain death at the hands of their cruel tormentors. A mere boy, Joshua caught the welcome sight of a tiny gray muzzle, which sported a long, fine mustache. Joshua stretched out his hand as the little mouse emerged from a hole where the building had settled and where a stream of water and mud leaked through the wooden slats. The mouse came to him and nestled in his palm.

Moving away from the hole, Joshua sat on the floor near the edge of the bed made of planks. Hearing a loud whistle, he quickly closed his hand and slipped his treasure into his pocket. A sinister pair of black leather boots appeared at the door of the hut. There stood an officer, whirling a horse whip in his hand. The man, one of the camp chiefs and a terrible executioner, scanned the room with its makeshift pallets. Bending over, he discovered the terrified young boy. Pointing his whip at the little boy, he told his two companions to get the boy out of his hiding place. They pulled him out by his legs.

Standing to his feet, Joshua faced the laughing, cruel man. Trembling with fear, Joshua was unable to keep his thin body from shivering. He felt sure that he was another innocent lamb about to be led to the slaughter. He had seen his companions leave, never to return. He quivered as he thought about dying. Nervously, he gave a gentle squeeze to the gray muzzle clutched in his right hand. The officer told the boy to follow him. They left the somber prison and crossed the grounds soaked from torrential rain. They entered a building set off by itself—the headquarters reserved for the camp's guards and soldiers.

The silent lad could hear his heart beating with terror. Unable to restrain his own body from trembling, Joshua could feel the little mouse, nestled unmoving in his hand. She knew her little master well and remained calm in his pocket, but the boy jumped at the sound of a husky voice calling his name. Looking up, he discovered a man with white hair. Together they walked down a long corridor and reached a room that Joshua knew to be an infirmary. Smiling, the man told Joshua that he was a doctor and asked him how old he was. Swallowing hard, Joshua whispered, "I'm nine years old, sir." Squeezing Joshua's cheek, the doctor said with a shake of his head, "Don't tremble and don't be afraid anymore, my boy. This soldier will take you where you have to go."

Following the soldier, the scared little nine-year-old continued down the same corridor. Soon he found himself in a large bathroom. There a young woman wearing prison garb ordered him to take off his clothes. Complying, he put his clothes in the corner of the room. The young woman helped him to wash himself. After twenty minutes of being scrubbed clean and then freshly clothed in gray flannel pajamas, Joshua was led by the soldier back to the infirmary where the older gentleman asked him to lie down on the bed. Afraid of what might happen if he did not obey the white-haired man, Joshua obediently lay down.

Joshua watched numbly as a needle pierced his skin and blood gushed into a syringe. The old doctor bent and whispered in his ear, "Somebody is going to bring you some food. My dear boy, if you obey, everything will be fine for you. But, let me give you one more piece of advice: never, never ask any questions." Feeling like he had no choice, Joshua neither spoke a word nor moved a muscle. Looking Joshua intently in the face, the doctor said huskily, "You are privileged, my dear boy. You were surely born under a good star." With that, the man left the room.

Now Joshua was left all alone to wonder what would happen to him next. He knew that those who were taken from the dreaded barracks never came back. Just then, he heard a knock on the door and watched as a soldier brought him a tray of food, but he was too distracted to think about eating. When the door was closed, without thinking of what he was doing, Joshua put his hand in his pocket. With a start, he realized that his little friend was gone. As he put the tray of food on the bed, he felt alone, abandoned by Bethlehem, his beloved friend. With his right hand, he wiped tears from his tired eyes, the beautiful eyes of a nine-year-old boy who had seen horrors that surpassed the limits of cruel imagination. Snuggling under the blanket, he fell asleep without knowing what the next day would bring.

Joshua was awakened by the bright yellow glare from the yard lights that guarded the camp like sentinels. The complete silence of the room made him think about his companions in the camp. Even though he could not hear their cries or see their tears of despair, his fear kept pace with the beat of his heart. His face swam with tears as he thought he would never see the gentle Bethlehem again. In dismay, he whispered, "Jesus, my dear Jesus, where are you? Why all of this? Please help me! Help me! I need you!" Magically, he felt something quivering against his hand. "Oh, Bethlehem! Is it really you? How did you find me? I'm so happy, Bethlehem! Please come to me and please don't leave me anymore! Don't make any noise!" With that, as though he was secreting a precious gem, Joshua hid his little treasure near at hand.

For the following two weeks, Joshua underwent the same treatment. One morning, a young woman awakened him. "Quick, quick," she said. "Here are some new clothes for you. Get dressed quickly. Somebody is coming to take you out of the camp." Dressed in his new clothes, Joshua bravely followed the soldier who came for him. Sitting in the backseat of the Kübelwagen, a German military jeep, he watched as the vehicle went through the giant gate, which was surrounded by terrible razor wire.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Joshua, Helmut, and Bethlehemby Michelle O. Donovan Copyright © 2011 by Michelle O. Donovan. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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