During World War II, Jewish children are given to Catholics to raise by parents desperate to save them from the Nazi killing machine.
The book opens with Roger, a French Jewish boy hidden in the Convent of Sainte Marie de Sion. It’s 1946, and he remembers his baptism and forced Catholic religious training, even as he knows he’s Jewish. A second story begins in 1942 when Mira Kowalski and her infant brother, Daniel, are hastily cleaned up by their mother and taken to live with a childless couple in the Polish countryside. Mira is renamed Anastzja Wójcik and her brother, Oskar. These children, too, are converted to Catholicism and steeped in the church. As they spend their formative years in hiding, memories of Jewish homes and rituals and parents fade, and in Oskar’s case, are never formed. All are orphaned by Nazi violence. At war’s end the protectors of all three children want to keep them, but Jewish activists successfully claim them as their own. Who is stealing whom? The children's storylines converge in Israel in the late 1940s and carry through to 1968, becoming interwoven with that of Renata, a British/German archaeologist with her own hidden, traumatic past. The characters mature and find careers and love but remain deeply unsettled by their mixed pasts. What is Roger’s faith tradition? How does Oskar reconcile himself to being ripped from the only parents he remembers? And what about the grief of the Polish couple whose charges are forcibly resettled in Israel? “What is a mother if not a nesting box?” asks a character toward the book’s conclusion. Oskar finally reconnects with the only parents he remembers, and new surprises about parentage continue through to the end.
A carefully crafted and heartbreaking book.