A Higher Call Missed
One of the defining moments of my young life happened on a raining autumn day in 1988 on a family holiday to London. We visited Barnardo’s, where my father had spent a brief period with his sister after they had been taken from their mother. We sat in a dull office and a rather officious woman explained to my father that his father was a German POW named Herman. A brief moment of shock and pain for my Dad, who was finally learning a truth about his life he had never known.
Recent Comments