"The boys had dumped a pail of whey on the kitchen floor. Each boy had one of Helen's ankles, pulling her across the wooden floor on her bare bottom. When they reached the far end of the kitchen and swirled around for another trip, their mother's crimson face brought them to an abrupt halt. They looked at her for a moment, still holding their sister's legs in the air. In unison, they dropped Helen's legs and quickly wiped their hands on their trousers as if nothing had been going on. Maria stood quivering, surveying the kitchen. The whey had splashed up onto the papered walls above the broad, wooden baseboards. It was on the chairs, table legs, and wood-fired cookstove. Helen's hair and dress were soaked, her bottom cherry red from the friction. Helen's bottom soon wasn't the lone occupant of that end of the color spectrum. Severe consequences were vigorously dealt out."
"Johann and Susanna sat holding hands on the train between Kars and Tiflis (Tbilisi). Before leaving, they had both purchased new civilian wardrobes. With the political landscape uncertain, it was best not to appear affiliated with any ideology. It was a certainty that, if you left an impression that you favored one side or the other, you'd run into someone who rabidly held an opposing view. Politics in the 1918 Caucasus region had more than two sides-way more. There were Tsarists, Bolsheviks, and Anarchists. Every one of those groups was subdivided further into religious, ethnic, and tribal variations. Each sect would rather kill you than persuade you to their side."
'As they walked toward the compound, Frank Stoltzfus pumped Gerhardt for his family's story, wanting to know how they ended up in Constantinople. After making it as far as Batumi in the telling, Frank stopped Gerhardt with a hand on his arm. He asked, "You mean to tell me that since your family was driven out of the Caucasus, you've basically been refugees for four years, looking for a safe place for your family?" Gerhardt shrugged. "I hadn't thought of it that way. I always thought we were just searching for a home to raise our children in peace." Frank replied, "That's the definition of a refugee."'
"Always so sure of his path forward, Gerhardt now found himself second guessing his every step. He knew that he had to forge ahead on this path of unsure footing. Otherwise, he would surrender what little control he had over his family's fate. They would be doomed to become more faceless victims of the blackn