"Better that we go away then!" said a younger woman. "Just as we packt the last things on the wagon, a Russian cavalry division galloped onto the farm: 'It is good that you are going away,' said the one and yet quite good-naturedly helpt us with the packing up. 'Where do you want to go then?' - 'To Berlin!' I answered. - 'In eight days, we will be there, too!' And they let us go from the farm unhurt and unhindered."
A few tried to laugh, but it only came out badly for them; most still lookt down in front of themselves, dull and apathetic.
---192---
Thus the evening approached. The large shed now resembled a gypsy camp. The people who wanted to spend the night had tried to make it like home. Some still sat on their benches, incessantly drank the generously served tea, and ate of the bread that appeared inexhaustible like that in the wilderness; others crouched on the straw that was spread on the floor; still others already stretched themselves out on the ready-made beds and wrapt themselves in the warm blankets.
There, Hans walkt in the midst of the people. When they noticed that he wanted to speak to them, there was a deep, rapt silence.
And in the deep, rapt silence, he opened his mouth and spoke to them: With the earthly bread, they had eaten merciful love; now he wanted to serve them the heavenly bread. And no one would hunger for it as much as they in their misery and in their bleakness. They had had to give up their home; he, however, in this darkening evening hour, wanted to lead them to the eternal home, from the love that people continuously prepared for them, to the great, lasting love of the Father in Heaven.
