Sunday, June 26, 2016
By
Viewed in a more positive light, change allows one to transform, to transition, if the individual is ready [1] to understand change, [2] to re-define change in such a way so they do not feel threatened and overwhelmed, [3] to use situations of change to propel themselves forward, and [4] to empower themselves despite the uncertain situations that may present themselves.
Wednesday, May 18, 2016
Monday, April 18, 2016
Thursday, April 14, 2016
Lubbock author Allison's book earns attention
Lubbock author Allison's book earns attention: Lubbock author Grace Allison's e-book 'A Dream Is a Wish the Heart Makes' has been nominated in two categories of the Global EBook Awards: Best Non-Fiction Spiritual/Metaphysical and Best Non-Fiction Inspirational/Visionary.
Saturday, April 9, 2016
Moses needs the supernatural to make it to the promise land
Arc of the
Covenant
1313 BCE Egypt
Concealed by the
dark of the new moon, and disguised as an Imperial Guard of the Pharaoh, Moses furtively
made his way toward the most sacred sanctuary of the Temple of Thebes. His eyes
darted here and there as he scanned the corridor. He knew the consequences
would be grave—likely deadly—if he were caught in the forbidden area. Even so,
he would not be deterred. The stakes were too high. He must have the Arc of the
Covenant if the Israelites were to have a chance of surviving the exodus from
Egypt. Despite the high tension of his task, he found the calming techniques he
had learned in his studies assisted him in staying focused and reasonably calm.
Moses clung to
the shadows, moving along the Temple walls from the main Sanctuary crossing the
twelve smaller rooms toward the Mother Sanctuary. The scent of sandalwood greeted
him as he opened the door to the forbidden Sanctuary. The incense and a single lamp
burned to clear the sacred room from the rituals of the day. Carefully closing
the door behind him, Moses wiped the sweat from his brow, then paused as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. From across the
chamber he could feel the radiant energy of the precious Shamir stone contained
within golden Arc of the Covenant.
Illuminated by
the light of his lamp figures of men with the heads of beasts, each
representing an Egyptian deity, lined the walls on either side of the chamber.
Starting with the figure on the right, Moses bowed low, placing the palms of
his hands on top of his feet. He paid his respects to every figure starting
with the wall to his right and moving in order around the temple until he stood
before the altar.
As he ascended
the alabaster steps to the altar, the golden headdress and cloak of the
Imperial Guard protected Moses from the potent and dangerous energies of the
god stone within the Arc. Used in the
art of healing, the power within the stone contained all the colors of the
spectrum. Only an experienced hierophant of the Temple could touch it. An
Atlantean priest had inscribed upon the Shamir stone the whole of the symbolic esoteric
teaching throughout the ages of man as well as the force to vanquish any enemy
of God.
While exiled in
the desert, Moses came in service to the Temple of Isis and he learned the
ancient Atlantean teachings, language and hieroglyphics. As he approached the
golden Arc he raised the palms of his hands toward the Arc and began to chant
inwardly ancient names of God. With each sacred name his vibration grew until his
vibration matched that of precious god stone within the Arc.
On the altar
near the Arc was a covering with hieroglyphics meant to keep the stone’s energy
safely contained within the Arc when it was transported. Moses, now in harmony
with the stone and still chanting, reverently began dressing the golden Arc. To
his right he noticed a small, round, shiny object. Curious, he picked it up.
There were twelve small brilliant gems atop the round device. He could feel a
pulsing energy in harmony with that of the stone within the Arc. With no time
to determine how the round device was connected to it, Moses secured the object
alongside the golden Arc with the threads attached to the covering.
Exodus
25 – Jehovah said to Moses, “Tell the people of Israel that everyone who wants
to may bring me an offering from this list: gold, silver, bronze, blue cloth,
purple cloth, scarlet cloth, fine-twined linen, goat’s hair, red-dyed rams’
skins, acacia wood, olive oil for the lamps, spice for the anointing oil and
for the fragrant incense, onyx stones, stones to be set in the ephod and in the
breastplate.
For
I want the people of Israel to make me a sacred Temple where I can live among
them. This home of mine shall be a pavilion – a Tabernacle.”
After
Jehovah inspected the building of the Temple, He then said to Moses, “Put
together the Tabernacle on the first day of the month. In it, place the sacred marble
stone, the Ten Commandments; and install the veil to enclose the Arc of the
Covenant within the Holy of Holies.”
A bead of sweat
made its way down his forehead as the tension grew within Moses. He knew the
neophytes of the Temple would soon be coming to begin their day. Turning from the altar he tucked the Arc into another
sack made of hemp and made his way carefully down the altar steps.
Though outwardly
calm, Moses felt as if he were listening with every fiber of his being for the
sounds of people approaching. His disguise would do him little good if someone
challenged him as he carried the Arc in the hemp sack. He paused at the door
and carefully peered down the corridor. The false dawn preceding the morning
had not yet appeared. Yet. But Moses knew its arrival was immanent.
Taking another
calming breath, Moses left the Sanctuary and retraced his steps. Scant steps
away from the archway that opened to the desert, Moses froze at the sound of
movement nearby, then pressed himself against the wall willing himself to melt
into it. A heartbeat later a rat scurried across the corridor and disappeared
into a crack in the stone wall.
Moses let out a breath he had not been
aware he had been holding, moved deliberately through the archway, and
disappeared into the early morning blackness.
Sunday, March 20, 2016
Chapter 14 of Einsteins Compass - Meet Mystical Traveler Akhenaten
Chapter 14 - A Neophyte’s Dream
The regal Akhenaten, in a simple
knee-length, ivory shendyt, slipped off his sandals. He sat down and crossed
his legs. He relaxed into a lotus position under a majestic oak tree outside
the Temple of Research. The distinctive oop-oop-oop
call of a hoopoe bird circling above did not distract him, even as the bird’s
broad and rounded wings beat gracefully and carried it into a nest box mounted
between two branches of the tree.
“M-master Akhenaten?” came a
hesitant voice. Koral Kendra, a young girl in the simple temple garment of a neophyte,
her chestnut hair, wrapped in golden threads bouncing with her stride,
cautiously approached Akhenaten. Koral was determined to possess the gift of
looking through the Infinity Portal. But she had yet to test her skills. The
training necessary to prepare her for the task was extremely demanding.
Neophytes needed to learn to go beyond intellectual understanding and into
intuition, and many did not make it through the preparation. But Koral had
worked diligently and with great devotion. She lived within a Temple of Seers, the
home to all women who accepted the rigors of the temple as their way of life. It
was a devotion she loved.
“Yes, Koral. What can I do for
you?” said Master Akhenaten looking up at the girl.
Koral was surprised that the
master knew her name. She was not aware that her progress had actually come to
the attention of many of the masters. “Mary Magdalene suggested you might be
able to help me. Do you have a moment?”
“She did?” Akhenaten cocked his
head to one side, his brow furrowing in thought. “Have you completed your
training in the Seer’s Temple, then?”
Koral nodded solemnly, but Akhenaten
could see the girl the excitement swirling in her aura. “I have. So I was
wondering if you might take me on as your student and show me how a Light
Traveler sees through time.” Koral paused expectantly, but Akhenaten’s face
revealed nothing to her.
She took in a deep breath and
pressed on, hoping to convince the master that she was worthy. “I learned that these
Travelers come to bring a special balancing; to help transmute the
negativity of the people they serve in each period in history.”
“I see,” Akhenaten said. “Well,
you are correct in your understanding of the role of a Light Traveler.” The
master paused, considering his next words. “However, I might add that in
addition to bringing this balance, we teach the virtues of keeping one’s word,
personal integrity, unconditional loving as well as holding a consciousness of
upliftment. These are all supportive of preparing people to know their true
selves.”
Koral nodded as awareness dawned
within her. “Hmmm. Of course. It’s clear from my studies that this is what
Travelers do. I just hadn’t put it together until you said that.”
Akhenaten’s face remained serious.
“Good. I see the key words I spoke stimulated understanding in you.”
Encouraged, Koral looked down
modestly. “Thank you for the awareness. I can understand that those qualities impart
the strength for people to advance to even higher levels of awareness.”
“You’re welcome.” Master Akhenaten
gestured for Koral to sit in front of him
on the carpet of grass. “But before I decide whether to accept you as a student
of the Infinity Portal, I think there are some things we need to discuss.”
Nodding, Koral sat and tried to
prepare herself for whatever test Akhenaten might have for her. She had worked
hard and felt ready to meet any challenge, but being accepted by Master Akhenaten
was a very big step in her advancement and she felt nervous. Despite the unease,
her curiosity was insatiable and she couldn’t help but ask “What you just said
brought some things to mind.”
Akhenaten’s eyebrows rose
quizzically. “Oh?”
Koral forged ahead, aware that the
master’s time was not to be wasted. But she was burning with a desire for
knowledge. “Yes, may I ask you some questions?” she asked eagerly.
Akhenaten stroked his chin
thoughtfully, then inclined his head. “If I am to evaluate your worthiness to
be my student, then you also have the right to see if I am the one you want to
be your teacher.”
Koral was slightly taken aback at Akhenaten’s
practical thinking on the matter, but quickly regained her composure and asked,
“Well, first of all, how did you become a Light Traveler?”
Akhenaten laughed out loud and
Koral cringed inwardly, fearing her question might seem frivolous to the great
teacher. But he did not seem put off. “It was surely not something I set out to
do,” Akhenaten said, settling back against the tree. “On the earth plane I
ruled the country of Egypt. They called me Pharaoh Amenhotep IV. In a
dream God asked me to build the city Armana—a place comparable to a ‘New
Jerusalem’.”
“God spoke to you?” asked Koral,
awed by the concept.
“It was in a dream, as I said. That’s
one of the things you will be challenged with as you learn and grow; how to
recognize what is given to you as you travel in your dreams.”
“So you weren’t sure if it was God
or not?”
Akhenaten solemnly shook his head.
“The only way you can be sure of what you hear in your dreams is to test them
out in the world. To become a ‘spiritual scientist’.”
Korak took in a deep breath and
tried to grasp the implications of what Akhenaten had gone through. “So you had
a city built based on a dream?”
A small smile appeared on Akhenaten’s
lips. “Well, I was the Pharoah, so I
didn’t have to explain myself to anyone.” Then Akhenaten became serious again.
“Not only did I build a new city, I was inspired to introduce a new teaching: monotheism;
the knowledge of one God. His name was Aten. And I became Akhenaten.”
“Changing a peoples’ belief sounds
like a daunting task,” Koral said, her brows furrowing.
Akhenaten nodded. “I would not
have thought it possible. But since a radiant being had communicated this
to me through Light and sound, I knew that not only could I do it, I had to do it. My knowing was that
strong.”
Akhenaten seemed to gaze into the
far distance, remembering. “As Akhenaten, I turned Egyptian tradition upside
down. The changes were not welcomed by most of my people.”
“So what did you do about that?”
Koral asked, a look of concern falling across her face.
Akhenaten shrugged. “There was
little I could do but hold to the integrity of the vision I was given.” He
sighed. “My ‘heresy’ was completely rejected. And punishment was handled with a
swiftness an efficiency I would have admired had the results not been my
murder.” Then Akhenaten smiled and looked at Koral. “But the seed was planted.
And the seed of Truth can grow, even when the soil is less than welcoming to
it.”
Koral hesitantly smiled back. “So
you’re saying that people don’t choose to be Light Travelers, but the Spirit
chooses them?”
“It’s something like that,” Akhenaten
said with a chuckle. “It’s more like who we are—the soul—prepares, but we may
not be consciously aware of it when we re-embody.”
Koral let that concept sink in,
then, with a slight shake of her head pressed on. “Well, I know that there have
always been Light Travelers on the earth, but I don’t know much about them. You
were a king…are all the Travelers people of high stature.”
Not unkindly, Master Akhenaten chuckled.
“Not at all. Some have been poets, writers, scientists, philosophers and
teachers on the Earth plane. Others have led such ordinary lives that they went
virtually unnoticed even as they anchored this powerful energy of Light into
the physical realm.”
“What do you mean that they
‘anchored’ this Light?” Koral immediately asked. She was fascinated and
delighted that Master Akhenaten was willing to be so forthcoming. While very
loving, these teachers of the Light and Sound were not often this responsive to
the questions of their students—possibly because once started, the questions
could be endless. But Akhenaten seemed content to satisfy Koral’s curiosity
further.
“The Father/Mother God extends its
Light and Sound everywhere. On the earth plane it is necessary for a physical
body to receive and allow this energy to flow into that level. That is what Light
Travelers do.”
Understanding dawned in Koral’s
eyes so Akhenaten continued. “At special times in human evolution, a Traveler
is given the keys to Soul Transcendence: The practices that awaken the
awareness of oneself as a Soul and as more than that, knowing their oneness
with God. This is not a theoretical
understanding, but the actual experience of that living reality.”
“Is that what you taught, Master Akhenaten?”
Koral wanted to know.
Akhenaten shook his head, but
smiled. “I did not teach that when I was pharoah because people were not at the
stage of their development to be able to know that. The inner mysteries of Light
and sound were mostly secret for many centuries until a Light Traveler who
became known as Jesus embodied.”
Once again Koral nodded. Jesus was
known to all the neophytes. “During his lifetime,” Akhenaten continued, “he
made the inner wisdoms available to the masses. After that, the spiritual
knowledge was available to anyone who awakened to the truth within.”
As Koral allowed the wisdom she
had been receiving to settle within her, Akhenaten made a gesture while holding
his consciousness on a secret, sacred thought and conjured an Infinity Portal.
As the portal sprang into being, Koral gasped. She knew this was the test
Akhenaten would use to evaluate her readiness to be his student. Any sense of confidence
she had gained as the master had spoken so freely with her evaporated as the
portal solidified, and tension filled the girl. This was far too important to
make even a single error. Just because Akhenaten had summoned the portal did
not mean she would be able to see the visions it presented. It was up to her to
maintain the requisite singleness of focus for as long as the master instructed
her.
The portal itself was the size of
an open book. Its surface had the appearance of a mirror cut from a large
precious stone polished to crystal smoothness. The students training to be
Seers would gaze within these portals throughout their training. They
would see the colors, and the light and symbols of the spirit world. Their
vision would deepen to the vibration and color of the world around
them. They would feel, hear and see in their portal the emanations of the higher
realms of spirit. Daily meditations and spiritual inner exercises would strengthen
their ability. It was momentous that Akhenaten had opened a portal for Koral.
She knew every bit of her training would be called upon to maintain her
connection to it.
Master Akhenaten gestured again
and the portal projected the holographic sacred geometric pattern of the Flower
of Life. The floating flower pulsed energy all around.
Akhenaten closed his eyes and
blessed the portal. “We call forward and bless the history of the Shamir
Stone for the Highest Good”. Akhenaten touched the center of the portal causing
the geometric pattern to spin, saying, “I will use the history of the
Shamir Stone to show how we search through time. The Flower of Life portal
is only for advanced initiates; those who have demonstrated the
ability to focus through time.”
The master touched Koral at the
middle of her forehead and she felt a tingling sensation. She closed her eyes
briefly, then opened them as Akhenaten said, “Let’s see if you can hold the
energy long enough to follow the story as we go along.”
Koral gazed more closely at the
portal. Despite her anxiety, her amber eyes sparkled with excitement. She had
learned that touching a portal without a blessing would not open the door of
time. Only creating a clear, heartfelt intention would bring the best results
when searching. This Flower of Life portal was what she most wanted to know
about. Her goal was to serve in the Temple of Research.
As the portal surface showed
scenes of events through time, Akhenaten began explaining the Shamir
Stone. “The Shamir was one of ten miraculous artifacts created by God at
twilight upon the Sixth Day of Creation. It is a supernatural worm the size of
a single grain of barleycorn. Its gaze is so powerful that it can cut
through any material with ease; even through diamond itself, the hardest
substance on Earth. Such a wondrous creature God entrusted to the hoopoe bird.
It was charged with serving the Shamir whenever and wherever the time came.”
Akhenaten pointed to the bird nest
above in the oak tree. “His species is to protect the Shamir from all
harm. Hoopoes are not supernatural. They are widespread throughout places
called Europe and Asia on the Earth plane.”
Koral’s eyes narrowed as she asked
in an uncertain tone. “Wait, I am confused. Why is the Shamir called a
stone when it is a worm?”
Akhenaten replied, “The Shamir is called
a stone to keep its identity secret. Only those who know what a Shamir is would
know it’s a worm. And, the tiny lead box in which it rests looks like a stone.”
The portal revealed symbols and a projection
of Hermes, the High Priest of Atlantis, bringing the Shamir from Atlantis to
Egypt.
As Hermes appeared, Koral frowned,
“That’s Hermes! I have seen him in our Garden. What did he have to do with the
Shamir?”
Through the portal Koral watched
Hermes near a pyramid in Egypt. It was under construction at a location where
an energy vortex extended from the earth and aligned with the stars of the
constellation Orion in the heavens.
Akhenaten continued, “Do you see
Hermes carrying a tiny metal box?” Koral nodded, fascinated by the scene. “The
Shamir was always wrapped in wool and stored in a container made of lead, where
it rested and traveled the inner realms of Light until it was needed in the
Earth realm. Any other vessel would melt and disintegrate under the
Shamir's gaze.”
Koral watched Hermes as he donned a
gold breastplate. He opened the lid of the small lead box and unwrapped the
wool cloth. Next, he set the Shamir over the construction plans of the
Pyramid of the North. The Shamir hovered, absorbing the images. At a signal
unseen by the observers, Hermes placed it back into its box, closed it, and
rose.
The portal faded, then revealed a
new scene. The master and hopeful initiate watched as Hermes arrived at the
site where several uncut stones lay near the partly constructed pyramid. Again,
Hermes, with a hoopoe bird perched nearby, opened the box. The bird, with its
long bill, delicately picked up the tiny worm and placed it near the roughly
hewn stones. There was a brief pause and then a beam of light burst from the
Shamir’s gaze and extended to the raw stone. In moments, the light cut the
stones precisely to the measurements of the drawing it had absorbed.
The portal revealed that day after
day the hoopoe bird moved the worm from stone to stone. Once all the massive
stones were cut, Hermes stepped forward and beckoned to a group of Atlantean priests.
With intensely focused concentration, they raised their hands and projected an
immensely powerful energy that reversed gravity and polarity. As if weightless,
the multi-ton stones rose and moved into place.
As the final stone settled, Master
Akhenaten raised his left hand over the portal, ending the session. He glanced
at Koral to see if she was able to hold the consciousness necessary to maintain
contact with the portal. He saw beads of sweat had formed on her forehead and her
face was slightly haggard from the strain of intense concentration.
Despite her near exhaustion, at
the master’s glance Koral tensed and waited for Akhenaten’s next words. She
knew this would be the pronouncement that could alter the course of her entire
life. Time seemed to slow as he considered his decision.
“Have I demonstrated worthiness to
become a student of this man?” Koral wondered to herself. “Have I asked too
many questions? Was I strong enough? Should I say something? Should I keep a
respectful silence?” As these questions raced through Koral’s mind, she became
more and more uncertain. “What will I do if he refuses me?”
Akhenaten nodded once, coming to
his conclusion. He took in a breath, almost a sigh, and said, “I think that is quite
enough for your first Flower of Life portal lesson.”
Koral paled. “I can do better,”
she blurted out. “Really, I will work harder. I’m sure I can…” Near tears,
Koral paused and her mouth shut with a clap. “Wait, what did you say?”
Reaching forward, Akhenaten
enfolded Koral in a gentle hug. “I said, young initiate, that you have done
enough for your first lesson. We will get together again soon.”
“We will?” Koral asked in a daze.
Akhenaten laughed, “Of course we
will. Since you are now my student, we will be seeing a lot of each other.”
“Your st…”
Akhenaten nodded his head and
laughed, shooing her away with his hands. Koral sprang to her feet. “Oh, thank
you Master Akhenaten. You will not be sorry you have made this choice.”
The master nodded, still smiling
as Koral backed away. “Go, find a drink of water, celebrate with your friends…”
As she turned, his face became slightly more serious. “…because your real work
is only now beginning,” he said too quietly for her to hear.
Koral could barely contain her
joy. It would not do at all for a brand new initiate to be seen running through
the serene garden. But there was a definite spring to her step as she went to
find her friends and share with them her good fortune.
From its nest high in the oak tree,
the hoopoe with its crown of colorful feathers took wing, then glided down to
rest on Akhenaten’s shoulder. “Yes, my friend,” said Akhenaten to the bird,
“this one will be a brilliant student, and one whose future will be very
bright.” The bird seemed to nod its head once and appeared far wiser than a
bird should be.
Friday, February 19, 2016
Albert Einstein History Class Age 16
History Class Fall 1894
Albert 16 Years Old
The room was filled with wooden desks. Students were seated in three regimented double rows facing the wall-to-wall blackboard at the front of the room.
Albert made his way to a seat at the end of one of the rows. Dropping his books on the desk he searched for Johann. He was surprised to see his friend sitting next to Wilhelm Von Wiesel. When Johann glanced up, Albert gestured for his friend to sit next to him. Johann shook his head and looked down, unable to meet Albert’s eyes. Frowning, Albert shrugged and sat as a blond boy took what was to have been Johann’s seat.
Teacher Dieter Hamlin spoke while he wrote on the blackboard, “What… does it… mean… to be… German?” Dressed in a simple dark green wool suit, the tall, white haired gentleman stood stiffly erect. He turned to face the class.” Today we will discuss the Franco-Prussian War of 1870 and its impact on the people of Germany. Can anyone tell the class how the war of 1870 changed Germany? ”
The boy in the desk next to Albert raised a hand.
Hamlin gestured with chalk, “Yes Herr Frederick?”
Ulrich Frederick stood, cleared his throat, and precisely stated his answer. “Prussian and German victory brought about the final unification of Germany. It was under King Wilhelm I of Prussia.”
Hamlin, facing the class, crossed his arms. “Who were the two military leaders who conducted the war?”
Werner Von Wiesel, the privileged class bully, shouted in a bored tone from his seat. “Napoleon III for France and Bismarck for Germany.”
Hamlin nodded, “Good.” Then he smiled. “You know, Herr Von Wiesel, I served under your father during the Franco-Prussian War.”
Werner puffed himself up as he stood. “Yes, Herr Hamlin. When my father talks of the war he often mentions you and your bravery as a soldier.” All eyes on him, Werner smiled and straightened his waistcoat.” My father feels that all Germany should have helped the Prussians.”
In a strong voice, Hamlin stabbed the blackboard with his index finger. “The young of our nation need to be reminded of who we are. So, tell me, Herr Von Wiesel, what does it mean to be German?”
“Werner pulled his shoulders back, and thrust out his chest, saying, “To be German means to be STRONG!”
Hamlin nodded approvingly then turned to Albert’s seatmate. “Herr Frederick, what do you say it means to be a German.”
Herr Frederick said, “That one is brave and honorable,” then sat with near military precision.
All eyes turned to Albert. He stood to answer but before he could get a word out, Werner spat out, “You’re a Jew, not a German. You’re a foreigner who will disgrace the German army when you get drafted next year.”
Albert glared at Werner, putting his hands on his hips, “I only want to be a scientist. I will not serve in the Army; I do not believe in war.” Albert stood his ground, thinking to himself, “What an arrogant loudmouth.”
Werner turned and gave Johann a wicked wink. He pointed at Albert and taunted, “As you can see by his comment, Herr Hamlin, our Jew is a coward.”
Albert face reddened as his anger rose. “To my mind, compulsory military service is the prime cause of moral decay. It threatens not just the survival of our country, but of our very civilization!”
Hamlin removed his spectacles and polished them with a clean white handkerchief. In a stern voice he warned, “Careful Herr Einstein, you could face imprisonment if you do not serve.” Holding his glasses up to the light and approving of their cleanliness, he said, “After all, the German National Army and universal military service were organized after the Franco-Prussian war. Bismarck’s vision brought about the victory over Napoleon III that led to the unification of our nation. You wouldn’t challenge that, now would you?”
Albert clenched his jaw but held his tongue as Hamlin continued after a pause. “Napoleon III surrendered in January 1871 after being under siege from Sept 19, 1870. The treaty of Frankfurt was signed on May 10, 1871. France ceded Alsace, except Belfort and eastern Lorraine to Germany.” Hamlin put his spectacles back on, saying, “The German army could occupy northern France until we received payment of five billion Francs. Now, Germany has the strongest economy on the Continent thanks to this war.” Hamlin started to turn, then turned back. “And the strongest military!”
Once again turning his gaze from Albert, Hamlin said, “I am going to end our discussion of what it means to be German and move on to other topics. However, I want each of you to attend the Volkisch rally this evening. It is at the Englischer Garden.” Straightening the sparse items on his already meticulously neat desk, he instructed, “Be prepared to give your answer to my question in our next class.”
Albert frowned, thinking about the rally that was sure to be filled with anti-Semitic rhetoric. Those thoughts kept him distracted for the rest of the period. The nationalistic talk that promoted violence and hatred was becoming more prevalent by the day.
When Herr Hamlin dismissed class, Albert gathered his books then looked to where Johann had been sitting. His friend was no longer there. In fact, Albert did not see him anywhere in the rapidly emptying room. Leaving the classroom he resumed his search outside the building.
He eventually found Johann huddled under a tree facing away from the gymnasium. Walking up to his friend, Albert softly addressed him. “Johann?” The boy cringed at the sound.
Albert carefully sat on the ground next to Johann. “What’s the matter, my friend?” Johann would not look at Albert and only shook his head, nervously glancing around.” Puzzled, Albert tried again. “So, why did you sit with Werner today? You and I usually sit together.”
A forlorn whimper escaped Johann’s lips. With pain in his eyes he turned to his friend. “Albert I know we have been friends for years, but that can no longer be.”
Albert gasped as if he’d been hit in the stomach. Johann was more brother than friend. Johann looked down and said, “Things are changing in Germany. Bullies like Wilhelm…”
Albert nodded. “…are rising in popularity and influence. I know.”
“Yes,” said Johann bleakly. “It’s gotten to the point that harm will come to my family and me if I remain friends with you.”
Albert’s eyes began to fill with tears, but compassion and understanding also reflected from them. “You’re right. It’s getting that ugly.” Albert’s heart filled with resolve. “We cannot let anything happen to you or your family because of me and mine.” Albert gripped Johann’s arm. “We will not surrender to this type of hatred…but we will go along with what must be done to keep you safe. For now.”
Now tears spilled onto Johann’s cheeks. He looked into Albert’s eyes and said, “I knew you would understand. You are a better man than I am, Albert.” He squeezed Albert’s arm again as he made his way to his feet. “And…thank you, Albert. We will find a way through this. I know we will.”
Albert could only nod as he watched his friend walk away. “We will find a way.” But he sighed as he got back up. “But God only knows how long it will take and what will happen in the meantime.”
Albert shook his head and walked back toward the school building, a cold feeling of dread filling his stomach and sadness weighing down his heart.
* * *
The German brass band played the National Anthem Das Deutchlandlied. The opening words called to all Germans to bond together. Tears streamed down many faces in the crowd of hundreds of the Volkisch North-German Confederation. Their voices rang out in the open-air amphitheater of the Englischer Garden.
Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles -- Germany, Germany above everything.
Above everything in the world
When, for protection and defense,
it always takes a brotherly stand together.
From the Meuse to the Memel,
From the Adige to the Belt,
Germany, Germany above everything,
Above everything in the world! :
The song ended with a roaring cheer. Standing in the midst of the crowd Wilhelm Von Wiesel joined with his fellow history classmates in surrendering to the frenzy. Sweat ran down his pale face and steamed up his round wire-rimmed spectacles.
On the bandstand sat Wilhelm’s barrel-chested father. Gunter Von Wiesel, all five-feet-ten-inches of him, was practically vibrating with near-religious fervor. The aristocratic Prussian anti-Semite wore his blue regimental uniform. An officer in the Kaiser’s Army, Colonel Von Wiesel did not consider Jews to be Germans; he barely considered them to be human. He nodded to his former comrade, his son’s history teacher, Dieter Hamlin. Hamlin responded with a seated bow, awe for the colonel in his eyes.
Hans Torbiger, leader of the North-German Volkisch Confederation, waved his ebony top hat. His jet-black handlebar mustache and precisely trimmed beard gleamed in the amphitheater’s lights. He wore a formal waistcoat and pearled ascot. As the raucous crowd settled down, Torbiger shouted. “My friends, we face a terrible problem. We have an enemy within. That enemy is none other than the Jew!”
The crowd went wild with shouts of agreement. Torbiger gestured with his hands to quiet the crowd. “Jews are not like us!”
The crowd muttered in agreements, many heads nodding.
“Jews are not merely a different religious community, but are an altogether different race!” Torbiger stated flatly.
Murmurs of agreement could be heard throughout the crowd.
“The Jew is a stranger,” Torbiger continued, “who emigrated from Asia. He is a disease eating into the flesh of Germany.”
The rumblings of the crowd grew louder.
“Exploitation of the true people is his only aim. Selfishness and a lack of personal courage are his chief characteristics. Self-sacrifice and patriotism are altogether foreign to him.” Torbiger ended his speech with a warning. “Be wary of the Jew—he weakens the fatherland!”
Speaker after speaker spewed forth poisonous, inflammatory remarks and exhortations of hatred. Finally fervor began to cool. After the last speaker had made his anti-Semitic point, the crowd began to disperse. Wilhelm joined his father and they turned toward their home.
“What did you think of the rally, Wilhelm?”
“It was wonderful! Inspiring. I could not agree more that the Jew is a scourge upon our nation,” Wilhelm said with a scowl.
The elder Von Wiesel nodded. “When your mother and I were first married I went to the Jew banker for a loan to buy a house. The Yid refused. Apparently we did not meet his Jew standard.”
Wilhelm shook his head. “Typical.” Gunter nodded. “When we fought the Franco-Prussian War I refused to allow a single Jew in my regimen. They are cowards all.”
The elder Von Wiesel paused, then said, “You know, Wilhelm, I named you after the Kaiser. I have hopes you will be a great leader.”
“I will do my very best, father,” the boy answered with resolve.
But, Gunter was not so sure. This fair-haired boy resembled his doe-eyed mother more than his stout, staunch father.
Wilhelm gazed up in awe of his papa. He felt small and weak in the shadow of his hero. He knew deep down his father would never see him as the strong German he knew himself to be. Somehow, he resolved, he would find a way to show his father just how strong he was.
Sunday, February 7, 2016
Albert Einstein Meets Issac Newton
Albert loved to walk. Walking made his mind fresher and he would snap his fingers with the fast rhythm of each step. Humming a tune to keep pace with, he breathed in the cool, fall air. Before long, Albert found himself in Marienplatz, the heart of Munich.
Young couples and families milled through the streets of the city’s downtown. The crowds gathered to watch the Glockenspiel show.
Albert gazed up at the towering Gothic Clock, with its’ thirty-two carved figurines. They seemed to touch the sky. Every day at 11 a.m., the Glockenspiel chimed. It re-enacted the 16th century marriage and celebration of the local Duke, Wilhelm V, to Renata of Lorraine. The clock displayed a joust with life-sized knights on horseback resplendent in their local colors: white and blue for the Bavarians and red and white for the Lothringen champions. The Bavarian knight won every time. The clock’s dance lasted around 12 minutes, and at the end of the show, a tiny golden bird at the top of the Glockenspiel chirped three times.
As the marvelous spectacle came to an end and the people began to walk away, a small, almost hidden door at the clock tower’s base opened soundlessly. The movement caught Albert’s eye and he frowned. For all the times he’d walked past the clock tower, he’d never noticed a door. Noting that no one else seemed to be paying attention to it, he turned and walked toward the opening.
Gazing into the dark entryway, Albert saw an engraved metal sign, “No Entrance”. But the open door beckoned and he stepped over the threshold. Once inside, the door slowly swung shut. Albert reached out and pulled the gargoyle shaped wrought iron handle, but the door seemed firmly closed. He began to struggle with the door, but the tick…tock…tick…tock of the clock’s inner workings caught his attention and he stopped tugging. “What could be inside this magnificent timepiece?” he wondered, as the possibilities began running around in his mind.
Following the internal beating of the Clock Tower’s heart, Albert moved toward a spiral staircase. The only light in the hallway came from high above him. Tick…Tock…Tick…Tock. Albert stepped to the beat of the clock and round and round he rose. Time seemed to stand still as he climbed. He stopped at the top of the steps, then the shining light drew him to a massive, carved, wooden door and Albert approached it.
The door was partially opened and, peering into the room, Albert’s gaze landed on a large mahogany desk. Then Albert noticed the man seated at the desk. He looked to be around 50 years of age and had soft, silver, shoulder length hair. He was dressed in a white, long-sleeved peasant shirt and dark brown leather breeches. Arrayed on the desk in front of him were quill pens with pots of ink, stacks of paper and, on the right corner of the desk, an apple. The entire back wall of the room was lined with shelves stocked with ancient-looking volumes and a number of brass candlesticks holding candles that cast a soft glow into the room. In the ceiling of the room was some sort of skylight through which a beam of sunlight streamed.
The man at the desk held a triangular shaped crystal up to the beam of light and the refracted light of the polished crystal threw a rainbow of colors onto the wall. The man smiled with satisfaction.
Albert saw the rainbow and murmured to himself, “Sir Isaac Newton’s theory is that white light is a composite of all the colors of the spectrum.”
The man looked up from the rainbows and smiled at Albert. “Well said Albert, so glad you made your way in here to visit.” Albert’s jaw dropped. “How did you…?” The man held up his hand and smiled. “All in good time, my boy.” He rose from his chair and walked to Albert, holding out his hand. “My name is Isaac. And, please, sit down.” Speechless Albert stumbled into a chair in front of the desk as Isaac returned to his seat.
“I know who you are Albert,” Isaac said with a kind smile. “You must not concern yourself too deeply with what you are learning now. You have grasped The Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy. Let that be the foundation of your work that is to come.” Isaac picked up the apple on his desk and gently tossed it to Albert. “Gravity, the universe, space, distance, and motion are your future.” Catching the apple, Albert nodded as the ticking of the massive clock pulled at his awareness. Tick...tock…tick…tock….
Tick…tock…Ringgggggggg. The alarm clock next to Albert’s bed screamed at him. Albert sat bolt upright and struggled to reorient himself. Vacillating between the dream and waking reality, Albert let himself fall back onto his pillow. He turned his head to see what time it was. There on the table next to the alarm clock, sat an apple. “What the…?” Albert groaned.
Albert pulled himself from his bed and began dressing as he considered the implications of what he had dreamed. The more he thought about it, the more excited he became. Buttoning the last button of his shirt and throwing on his jacket, Albert dashed out of the house to investigate the Glockenspiel.
He jumped on his bike and pedaled as fast as he could to the Clock Tower. The sun met him as it rose in the early morning over the city. He raced to the scene of his dream, thinking, “I must be going crazy.” He found the center of Munich still asleep. He dismounted and walked to where he entered the tower in his dream. There was no door. Albert felt the cold stone with his hands seeking a crack or a hinge; anything that would reveal the presence of an entryway. He encountered nothing but the rough stone surface. He looked up and found no windows or radiating light other than the sunlight that glistened in the early dawn.
Disappointed, he turned away from the tower, went back to his bicycle, and slowly headed back to his home. As he rode away, the tiny golden bird at the top of the Glockenspiel chirped three times.
Friday, January 29, 2016
Albert Einstein Physics Class - Age 16
Physics Class
Fall 1894 – Einstein age 16
As Albert secured his bicycle at the side entrance of the gymnasium and took his books from the basket mounted in front of the handlebars, he wondered what the Benedictine Monks would think of a Jewish boy attending their prestigious school.
Dressed in a stylish charcoal wool suit, Albert walked toward the front of the building. Mounting the steps, he took off his inky short brimmed felt bowler hat and smoothed back his unruly chestnut hair. He was late. Again. He didn’t care.
Dwarfed by the tall Doric columns, he kept his eyes on the ground. He didn’t even glance at the long wall scroll with the Bavarian monks’ black and gold coat of arms that hung above him. Albert’s pace slowed. “I am not looking forward to another day of painful coercion by these dullards.”
At sixteen and standing five feet nine, Albert was not an imposing figure. The mild expression on his face hid the firestorm of rage that brewed in his mind. “Day after day, the same thing. This rote memorizing hurts my brain.” Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Albert let his thoughts drift to his mother and father. He missed his family. A sadness came over him as he remembered their goodbyes in early summer when his parents left him with his aunt and uncle to pursue work in Italy. He had loved his life before they left. Now he was stuck in classes where the boys were studying things he had mastered years earlier, and his guardians did not offer the same understanding his parents had provided.
Albert stopped next to a column and leaned against it as he remembered discovering the magic of mathematics. He was only around twelve when a family friend, Max Talmud, gave Albert a gift that changed his life.
Max was a struggling medical student who would visit the Einsteins on Shabbat. The book, Simple Algebra, opened new worlds to Albert, who at the time was in Folkenshuler elementary school. Albert mastered the book by himself and would delight in surprising Max with how much he had learned since the previous Friday.
For Albert, Simple Algebra was like a prayer book. He remembered his wonderment as the book began stimulating questions in his mind. Each problem became a puzzle to solve. Life was a series of “Xs” he decided, a series of unknowns. The concept had fascinated him. “How am I to solve my need to get my diploma so I can teach? X + my efforts = Diploma. What is X?” he used to wonder.
Albert forced himself out of his reverie and reluctantly resumed his walk to class.
He entered the classroom and nodded at his friend, Johann. The teacher, Herr von Achen, was writing on the blackboard, his back to the class. Von Achen was a rigidly disciplined man on whom forty resembled sixty. His eyes were a bleak gray behind gold-rimmed spectacles and his features were pinched and seemed to be in a perpetual frown under his balding head.
“The “late” Herr Einstein,” taunted Werner von Wiesel as Albert made his way to his seat. Werner was being his usual obnoxious self. The boys in the class would have laughed at the play on words, but they had heard this particular phrase numerous times already from von Wiesel. His entourage did manage a weak guffaw as Albert slid into his seat, ignoring the bully.
Von Achen turned and frowned, “Enough, Herr von Wiesel,” he said in halfhearted admonishment. Albert, who often challenged him, was far from the teacher’s favorite student. And von Achen didn’t want to antagonize the son of Colonel von Wiesel, one of Munich’s solid citizens (though, privately, von Achen thought him a pompous ass).
With a disapproving glare at Albert, von Achen began the lesson. “Today we will discuss mathematical treatment of astronomy, Newton’s development of celestial mechanics and the laws of gravitation. Does everyone have their textbook? Several of the boys nodded, taking out their copies of Josef Krist’s Essentials of Natural Science?”
Albert raised his hand. “With all due respect Herr von Achen, what does astronomy have to do with physics?”
Murmurs and grumbles rippled through the classroom. Werner rolled his eyes moaning, “Not again… Einstein, do you have to do this?”
Albert stood his ground. “My interest is in learning physics. This astronomy seems to be a waste of my time.”
Herr von Achen turned to Albert. "As part of this course, we are covering the five branches of natural science: Astronomy, biology, chemistry, the Earth sciences, and physics. You are to learn a broad range of subjects, not just one or two.”
“I have already covered this,” Albert thought to himself. Frustrated, he shook his head in resignation.
Herr von Achen challenged Albert. “Herr Einstein, please stand and explain to the class Newton’s theory of celestial mechanics.”
“The Law of universal gravitation states that any two bodies in the universe attract each other with a force that is directly proportional to the product of their masses and inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them,” Albert rattled off from his seat.
Herr von Achen’s face reddened. “What are you talking about? Where in your textbook, did you see that?” His anger building, the older man spat, “And when I tell you to stand the young man, you will stand!”
Albert threw his hands up and stood beside his chair. “Herr von Achen, I learned Newton’s theory of celestial mechanics several years ago. I read the Peoples Books of Natural Science when I was twelve. All twenty-one volumes.”
A collective gasp of incredulity rippled through the classroom.
Herr von Achen, barely containing his fury, declared, “I don’t care what you read or when.” He grabbed the copy of the textbook from his desk and held it up. “We are working with this textbook and the information in it. So,” he said, his body quivering as he slammed the book back down onto the desk with a sharp crack, “you can shut up and sit down!”
Turning from Albert to the blackboard, the teacher began scribbling as he spoke in short staccato bursts of scientific jargon.
Albert shook his head again in frustration. He wished he were anywhere but here. As the other boys feverishly took notes, attempting to keep up with their still enraged teacher, Albert slumped into his chair and pulled his brass compass from his pants pocket. Albert found endless fascination studying his prized possession. He wondered as he pushed on the twelve gem stones like buttons how he could turn it on again … how could he get the number “33” to flash the way it had when he first opened it?
Pulled from his reverie by the clock striking the hour and marking the end of the class, Albert heaved a sigh of relief, put away his compass and gathered his books. As he headed for the door, Herr von Achen tersely motioned him over to his desk. Albert approached cautiously. Barely containing his frustration, von Achen pointed his right index finger at Albert and, through clenched teeth said, “Just who do you think you are, Herr Einstein?”
Albert took in a deep breath and replied, “What do you want me to say, Herr von Achen?”
A vein throbbing on his brow Von Achen spat out, “You come to class late, sit in the back row with your attention elsewhere, and argue with me whenever you can. Where is your respect?”
“I respect knowledge and critical thought, sir,” Albert replied, his patience at an end. “I find little of either in this class,” he said wearily.
Herr von Achen glared at the boy, “Well then, perhaps you would do better somewhere else.” He pulled an envelope from his inside jacket pocket and smacked it against Albert’s chest. “You are to meet with the Academik Committee in six weeks. The letter explains everything.” He turned from Albert to straighten some papers on his desk. “And, Herr Einstein,” he said with sarcasm, his attention on the papers, “be on time.”
Stunned by this unexpected development and not knowing what to say, Albert stepped back, staring blankly at the letter in his hand. As realization dawned, and the idea of being expelled from school and having his plans shattered thrust itself into his mind, his face turned scarlet. His thoughts raced. His teachers at the Folkenshuler and now Gymnasium tried to force him to conform and Albert found it suffocating. Suddenly the whole place felt like it was closing in on him and Albert bolted from the classroom and ran through the hall out the front door.
The biting near-winter wind met Albert as he burst out of the Gymnasium. Running until he was out of breath, he stopped near the museum, and bent over, hands on his knees. As he gasped the cold air into his lungs, Albert tried to calm himself and take stock. He needed to be alone. As his emotions calmed and rationality returned, Albert realized he needed his bicycle. Keeping his eyes down to avoid engaging with anyone, he made his way back to the side entrance of the Gymnasium.
No one paid any attention to Albert as he mounted his bicycle and pedaled away. His heavy wool suit barely kept Albert warm in the fall chill, but he hardly noticed. After a while, he took one hand off the handlebars to wipe the tears from his eyes. His inner north guided Albert to Gasteig Park and the bridge at the end of the Prinzregentenstrasse. He slowed before a bench in the formal gardens and set his bicycle on the grass.
He collapsed onto the bench and reached into his jacket pocket for a cigarette. Sitting back, he closed his eyes and inhaled. He exhaled his anger with Herr Von Achen in a stream of smoke and took another drag. By the time Albert had finished and crushed the cigarette with his shoe, he was more in control of himself. He gazed across the terraces. Rising above in the axis of the Prinzregentenstrasse was the "Angel of Peace", a statue of the ancient Greek goddess of victory, Athena Nike. Albert stared at the towering, golden statue. “My only god is mathematics.”
The sun began to set and Albert shivered in the chill. “I need to be somewhere where I can think,” Albert decided. He didn’t want to discuss this with Johann and his aunt and uncle would be of no assistance. Then he realized he had the perfect place.
It was full dark by the time Albert found himself riding past candle-lit houses of middle class families. A short time later he arrived at his destination. He quietly walked his bike to the back of the house and left it under a small canopy made for the family vehicles. He opened the back door and entered a quiet house. He was alone. Since his parents had taken his younger sister Mara to Italy, he had the family home all to himself.
He turned on the hall light and climbed the stairs two at a time. He opened the door to find his bed, dresser and armoire had accumulated only a light coat of dust since he’d left them in the summer. Just being back in the familiar room helped to calm him. Taking a deep breath, Albert reached under the bed and pulled out his violin case. He opened it and carefully picked up his friend, Violina.
Standing in the middle of the room, Albert closed his eyes and remembered playing the Mozart lullaby, “I See the Moon” with his mother, Pauline accompanying him on the piano. Deeply missing his family, Albert began playing. As the sweet notes emerged from Violina, Albert started walking, then gently waltzing, around the room. He could almost hear his mother singing the melody. The folksy love song lifted his heart and he heard her laugh. Lost in his dreams, Albert let the song fill him.
Bowing the last strains of the beautiful melody, Albert found the memory of his ordeal with Herr Von Achen intruding into his awareness. The warm Violina still in his hands, he opened his eyes to a dim lit bedroom, abandoned. He sighed and settled Violina into her case. Feeling forlorn, Albert collapsed onto his bed fully clothed and fell into a deep sleep.
Friday, January 22, 2016
Albert Einstein Age 16 Attends Oktoberfest
Oktoberfest 1894
Albert – Age 16
It was the last days of September 1894, and the crisp west wind hailed the 16-day annual folk festival known as Oktoberfest. The first Oktoberfest began on October 12, 1810 when all the citizens of Munich were invited to attend the wedding party of King Ludwig I, as he married PrincessTherese Charlotte Luise of Saxony-Hildburghausen . It was such a success that the idea stuck and was still a favorite event 84 years later.
Wearing lederhosen and his favorite hat, emerald green and made of alpine wool, sixteen-year-old Albert strolled into the fairgrounds. He’d been saving his appetite for the afternoon feast, and his stomach was growling in protest. Colorful tent-like canopies dotted the grounds and Albert inhaled the enticing scents of baked dumplings, chickens roasting on spits, and sausages. Albert’s eyes widened at the abundance of Bavarian delicacies and his stomach rumbled again in anticipation.
Twilight was slowly descending across the sea of striped blue and white tents which were lit with the still novel electric light bulbs. A week before, as an assistant in the family-owned electrical company Elektrotechnische Fabrik J. Einstein & Cie., Albert had mounted the light bulbs in the Schottenhamel marquee.
The excited teenager made his way past the Hippodrome where usually horse races were held but now was transformed into a dance hall. The air was filled with the excited chatter of the revelers underscored by the joyous sounds of a sprightly polka band. Outside the large, ornate building men in their festive best chatted animatedly with the families in the line with them. Their wives in their dirndl’s, braids tied with ribbons on top of their heads, held the hands of their children as all eagerly awaited their turn to go inside to dance.
Albert whistled under his breath as he made his way to the far west end of the fairground. A new exhibit hosted by Munich Brau held a competition for the best crossbowman. Near the Munich Brau beer wagon, Albert found Johann setting up the targets for the crossbow competition. “Hey, Johann, do you need any help?” Albert shouted above the loud music.
Johann in a sweaty white peasant shirt and lederhosen turned around. “Albert! You made it!” he said, giving his friend a brotherly hug.
“Wouldn’t miss Oktoberfest,” Albert replied mock indignantly.
“Well, thank you for coming to our tent. My father has invested a lot of money in the crossbow competition and I’m just finishing setting up the targets. You go on inside. I’ll catch up with you in a while.”
Albert nodded and headed into the Munich Brau pavilion. A wooden dance floor covered the center of the Pagoda style tent that measured fifty feet square with rows of tables and benches lining the sides. On planks at the far south side of the party room plate after plate of fresh bratwurst and mugs of frosty beer beckoned.
“I’m starved,” Albert, said to himself as he turned and strode purposefully toward the food table. In his enthusiastic rush, Albert did not see the foot that thrust its way into his path and sent him sprawling into the straw on the floor. Amid derisive laughter, Albert hoisted himself up. Brushing the straw from his clothing he found himself face to face with Werner Von Wiesel.
“Walk much, clumsy? And look at that stupid hat,” the bully sneered, backhanding Albert’s goat-hair cap from his head.
Dressed in a white apron, the stout Frederick Thomas angrily marched up to the boys nearly forgetting he was holding a platter brimming with sausage. “That’s enough Werner,” he said sternly as he picked up Albert’s hat. “This is not sportsmanlike conduct. I will pull you from the Crossbow competition if you continue to behave like this.”
Albert glared at the bully as he brushed sawdust from the wooly cap. Werner, all innocence, looked hurt. "Me? I didn't do anything." He glanced at a nearby table for support from his father a retired Prussian Colonial who served in the German Army under Bismarck. But between bites of bratwurst and sips of cold beer, the senior Von Wiesel was chatting with friends and missed his son's performance. Werner shrugged and ambled away toward the food table as if Albert was beneath his notice.
Shaking his head at Werner’s audacity, Frederick turned to Albert. "I'm sorry for that, Albert." Then, remembering he was holding a dish of treats, he smiled and handed Albert the plate piled high with sausages. “You did an excellent job installing the electric lights. Now enjoy what we do best.” Albert’s mouth watered as he inhaled the savory scent of the steaming sausages and he accepted the plate gratefully.
Careful to avoid spilling the contents of the platter, Albert ambled to a table near the six-piece band, snagging a frosty mug of beer from a beer table along the way. The musicians were tuning their instruments as a group of dancers waited for the music to start. At a nearby table a pretty young blond girl smiled at Albert. Albert blushed a little and nodded, smiling back.
The encounter with Werner had not diminished Albert’s appetite and he turned his attention to the steaming sausages in front of him. Before long, the plate was clean and the mug empty. Sated, Albert relaxed back into his chair and closed his eyes wondering, Should I stay or go? There are many tents in which to enjoy the festivities. If I open my eyes, will Werner be gone?” Then he grimaced. “If I leave, will he follow me?”
The accordion wheezed into life and the drum began beating the tempo for a lively Polka. Albert felt the music, opened his eyes, and joined in singing with the enthusiastic crowd. He clapped his hands and watched the band.
Johann’s mother Christine, her ginger hair tucked under a white cap, tapped Albert’s shoulder and pointed to the young Fraulein who had smiled at Albert earlier. “Albert, please dance with Anna. She is Johann’s cousin visiting from Berlin.”
Shy, Albert gazed at the golden-haired beauty at the next table. She smiled demurely and then looked down. Albert plucked up a bit of courage from somewhere and hesitantly asked, “Um, hi. Would you like to, uh, dance?”
Anna nodded and the two stood so Albert could lead the dainty Fraulein to the dance floor. “What a beautiful girl,” he thought as he glanced sideways to take a surreptitious look. Taking their positions on the dance floor, and despite the energetic dance, Albert held Anna like a porcelain doll. Despite his shyness, he was a fairly accomplished dancer and was able to navigate through many pairs of dancers. Anna’s shoulder-length flaxen hair flew with every turn as the sprightly tempo of the polka carried them. Her bright blue eyes twinkled with delight when Albert twirled her. The crinoline under her ankle length, red polka dot skirt floated as she spun.
Close to winded after a few dances, Albert returned his partner to her seat. As he turned to go back to his table Anna put her hand on his arm. “Please join me,” she said, looking up into his eyes.
Albert gulped and nodded, settling into a chair next to Anna. He motioned to a passing hostess carrying a tray with mugs of beer. “Anna would you like something to drink?”
Anna smiled and nodded. “After that workout I can use one.”
As the hostess set two mugs on the table, she knocked a cardboard coaster to the ground. When Albert bent to pick it up, from out of nowhere an arrow streaked past her, flying through the feather at the top of Albert’s hat, knocking it off his head. Startled, Albert flinched, jarring the table and knocking the mug over. The frothy brew spilled over the edge of the table right into his overturned hat.
Unaware of the assault that had just taken place, the polka band continued playing at its joyously frantic pace. In the midst of the pandemonium and gaiety, Anna and the server were the only ones who noticed what had happened. Albert leaned over and picked up his hat and the arrow that had embedded itself in the straw covered dirt floor nearby.
With a horrified expression Anna exclaimed, “Who would do something like this?”
Albert considered whether to tell her his suspicions. He put on a brave smile and shook his head, ruefully emptying the beer out of his hat and shaking the last wisps of foam out of it. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Just a prank.” Laying his hat on the table, he looked at Anna and smiled. “Or maybe Cupid has shot his arrow.”
Anna blushed prettily and looked down at the table.
Albert’s expression turned more somber. “But, seriously, please don’t say anything to your family about this.”
“I won’t if you don’t want me to,” Anna agreed.
Nodding in appreciation, Albert scanned the crowd for Werner. But the boy was nowhere to be seen. With Anna watching quietly, Albert studied the arrow. It was small, as if from a child’s bow. Turning it in his fingers, he noticed a “WvW” burnished on the wood. Albert grimaced and shook his head, wondering how anyone could be so stupid as to shoot an arrow at someone with their initials carved into it. But then, Werner had never been the brightest bulb on the string, so to speak, Albert thought to himself.
Scanning the room again, Albert found Frederick Thomas on the far side of the tent, pouring a seemingly endless supply of his frothy beer into the mugs of the revelers. Albert’s eyes narrowed as he considered, Should he take him the arrow? If he did, Werner would be expelled from the crossbow competition and possibly arrested for malicious assault.
Beer soaked hat in his left hand, with a slight bow Albert held out his right hand and said, “I’m sorry, Anna, but I think I need to tend to something.”
Unable to hide her disappointment, Anna clasped his hand. “I’m sorry you have to leave so soon.”
“Me, too.” Albert said, his natural shyness coming to the fore. “I…um… really enjoyed dancing with you.”
Anna brightened a little. “Me too. Maybe I’ll see you again while I’m here?” she said tilting her head quizzically.
“I…I’d really like that,” Albert said, then turned, slipped the arrow under his jacket, and made his way through the crowd and out of the tent.
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