nonfiction, religious persecution 

There were no jobs to be had in Communist Romania. Especially for Sabbathkeepers . Money was scarce--and so was food. Many an evening the Tarita table held only homemade bread and grapes picked from the garden. And the situation was only getting worse.

"What about leaving Romania?" Father asked the question so quietly that his lips hardly moved.

Through all those years of food shortages, sporadic work, disappointment, and a hundred other problems, we'd never discussed escaping Romania. We never would have thought of it if we had not been so desperate.

"The risks are very high for anyone trying to escape," Father continued, "but God has promised to protect us."

The last rays of the sun shone through the one window, a western window. A bird sang its evening song, the sound seeming lonesome somehow. Eyes wide and face somber, Doru tried to consider what lay ahead. Danger? Yes. But also freedom!

The bird suddenly stopped its song, and the evening fell quietly around the family, as if to hush their secret plans.