Page 26 of The Hiding Place


  “We’ve located a place for the work,” he said. “It was a former concentration camp that’s just been released by the government.”

  We drove to Darmstadt to look over the camp. Rolls of rusting barbed wire still surrounded it. I walked slowly up a cinder path between drab gray barracks. I pushed open a creaking door; I stepped between rows of metal cots.

  “Windowboxes, “ I said. “We’ll have them at every window. The barbed wire must come down, of course, and then we’ll need paint. Green paint. Bright yellow-green, the color of things coming up new in the spring. . . .”

  Since Then

  Working with a committee of the German Lutheran Church, Corrie opened the camp in Darmstadt in 1946 as a home and place of renewal. It functioned in this way until 1960, when it was torn down to make room for new construction in a thriving new Germany.

  The home in Bloemendaal served ex-prisoners and other war victims exclusively until 1950, when it also began to receive people in need of care from the population at large. It is still in operation today, in its own new building, with patients from many parts of Europe. Since 1967 it has been governed by the Dutch Reformed Church.

  Willem died of tuberculosis of the spine in December 1946. He wrote his last book, a study of sacrifice in the Old Testament, standing, because the pain of his illness would not allow him to sit at a desk.

  Just before his death, Willem opened his eyes to tell Tine, “It is well—it is very well—with Kik.” It was not until 1953 that the family learned definitely that his twenty-year-old son had died in 1944 at the concentration camp in Bergen-Belsen. Today a “ten Boom Street” in Hilversum honors Kik.

  As a result of his wartime experiences, Peter van Woerden dedicated his musical gifts to God’s service. In addition to composing devotional songs, including a setting for the Psalms and Proverbs, he carried out an international music ministry. He eventually traveled with his wife and five children as a family singing group, bearing the message of God’s love throughout Europe and the Middle East.

  In 1959 Corrie was part of a group that visited Ravensbruck, which was then in East Germany, to honor Betsie and the 96,000 other women who died there. There Corrie learned that her own release had been part of a clerical error; one week later all women her age were taken to the gas chamber.

  When I heard Corrie speak in Darmstadt in 1968, she was 76, still traveling ceaselessly in obedience to Betsie’s certainty that they must “tell people.” Her work took her to 61 countries, including many “unreachable” ones on the other side of the Iron Curtain. To whomever she spoke—African students on the shores of Lake Victoria, farmers in a Cuban sugar field, prisoners in an English penitentiary, factory workers in Uzbekistan—she brought the truth the sisters learned in Ravensbruck: Jesus can turn loss into glory.

  John and I made some of those trips with her, the only way to catch this indefatigable woman long enough to get the information we needed to tell her story. Even with an unscheduled evening ahead of us in some hotel room in Austria or Hungary, it was hard to get her to think back. She was impatient with questions about past events, all her attention centered on next morning’s breakfast meeting with local pastors or the coming rally for young people: “Oh, those teenagers will be so happy to know that God loves them!”

  Our best talks came during the times she stayed in our home in Chappaqua. Our own teenage kids loved her visits, loved her ability to laugh at herself—like the time the chocolate ice cream from the first cone she had ever eaten kept running down her hand onto her blouse and shoes. “No, Aunt Corrie! You have to lick around the bottom of the scoop. Watch—like this!”

  Most of all, they loved the fact that each of them was as important to her as the loftiest church leader or city mayor. They loved the simple, concrete way she could convey theological abstractions. I remember the time thirteen-year-old Liz and I were helping Corrie unpack. From the bottom of the suitcase, Liz lifted a folded cloth with some very amateur-looking needlework on it—uneven stitches, mismatched colors, loose threads, snarls.

  “What are you making?” Liz asked, bewildered.

  “Oh, that’s not mine,” Corrie said. “That’s the work of the greatest weaver of all.”

  Liz looked dubiously at the tangled mess.

  “But Liz,” Corrie told her, “you’re looking at the wrong side!” She took the sorry thing from Liz’s hand. “This is what our lives look like, from our limited viewpoint.”

  Then, with a flourish, Corrie shook open the cloth and turned it around to display a magnificent crown embroidered in red, purple, and gold. “But when we turn over the threads of our lives to God, this is what He sees!”

  In her mid-eighties, failing health brought an end to Corrie’s missionary journeys. Friends provided Corrie a “retirement” house in Orange County, California, but of course, even bedridden and for the last five years unable to speak, Corrie never stopped witnessing to God’s love. You would come to cheer her up, but you would be the one who would leave that silent bedroom, spirit mysteriously and gloriously renewed.

  At 11:00 at night on her ninety-first birthday—April 15, 1983— Corrie, in the phrase she had always used, “went home” at last.

  For readers of Guideposts who had followed Corrie’s adventures, and for myself most of all, I wrote down my reaction to the news of her death:

  I tried to be glad for Corrie when the phone call came from California: she’d waited for her “homecoming” so long. But death, from the perspective of earth, means saying good-bye. Feeling my loss, I roamed our house, touching one by one the physical objects she’d given us over the years. An antique brass kettle. A small square picture frame. An even smaller round one.

  Little things that recalled big truths our friend shared. . . .

  The kettle spoke to me about priorities. It was Betsie who’d spied it, dented and soot-encrusted, in a junkyard one morning on her way to the market. She bought it with the meat money.

  “Betsie!” cried Corrie, coming upstairs from the watch shop. “What are we going to do with that old thing? Look, it won’t even hold water!”

  “It’s not meant to hold water,” Betsie replied with dignity.

  “Well, what’s it for, then?”

  “It’s not ‘for’ anything. Oh, Corrie, wait till I get the grime off! Can’t you just see the morning sun glowing on this spout?

  “I got stew meat instead of a roast,” she hurried on. “You know stew is really easier for Father to chew, and I’m not hungry today. Oh, Corrie, this kettle will go on shining long after we’ve forgotten what we had for dinner tonight!”

  And so it did. It shone for the hunted people who found shelter in the Beje. It shone for Corrie when she returned there alone from the concentration camp, and from her tireless trips to Russia, China, Vietnam. It shines in our home today, saying, What feeds the soul matters as much as what feeds the body.

  In the square frame is a piece of yellow cloth cut in the shape of a six-pointed star. Across the star are four black letters: jood, the Dutch word for Jew. When I was in Holland researching Corrie’s story, she took me to the home of Meyer Mossel—“Eusebius” during the Nazi occupation. We sipped tea while Corrie and Eusie reminisced.

  “You’d take your pipe with you,” Corrie reminded him, recalling the practice drills, “but you’d forget your ashtray, and I’d have to come running after you.”

  Eusie set down his cup and crossed the room to a massive antique sideboard. From the bottom drawer, buried beneath a pile of table linen, he drew out a scrap of yellow cloth cut in the shape of a star.

  “All these years I wondered why I saved this thing,” he said. “Now I know it was to give to you, Corrie.”

  We picked out the frame for Eusie’s star that very afternoon. For years it hung on Corrie’s wall as it hangs now on ours—a symbol bittersweet as a cross. To me the star says, Whatever in our life is hardest to bear, love can transform into beauty.

  And the little round frame? It holds a piece
of cloth, too—ordinary white cotton, the kind underwear is made of. In fact, it is underwear, a fragment of the undershirt Corrie was wearing when the Gestapo raid came.

  In solitary confinement in the prison at Scheveningen, the first place she was taken after her arrest, idleness was eroding Corrie’s courage. Nollie smuggled a needle and thread to her, but soon the thread was used up. Then Corrie remembered the undershirt. She unraveled a hem. And now! Animals, houses, faces—she covered the undershirt with embroidery.

  The design in the round frame is a flower, with elegant curling edges and six leaves on a graceful stem. You have to look closely to see the flower (the thread, of course, is the same color as the cloth). And underwear—even a dear friend’s—well, it isn’t the most costly of the things Corrie gave us. But it was the one that spoke most clearly now that she was gone.

  The circle of white cotton told me that when we’re feeling poorest— when we’ve lost a friend, when a dream has failed, when we seem to have nothing left in the world to make life beautiful—that’s when God says, You’re richer than you think.

  Elizabeth Sherrill

  Chappaqua, New York

  September 2005

  For a short time in the 1970s, Corrie’s home in Haarlem, Holland, was open as a museum. In this photo, Corrie stands in front of the hiding place. The hole in the bricks is for visitors to see inside the hiding place more easily. The original entrance is through the bottom of the closet. Since 1988, the Corrie ten Boom House is once again an inspiring museum.

  APPENDIX

  Ten Boom Family Resources and Timeline

  of Corrie ten Boom’s Life

  Chosen Books is indebted to researcher and author Emily S. Smith for the following timeline of the Ten Boom family and their family tree. These resources enable the reader to trace many of Corrie’s family relationships; to place various members of the family, including the dates of their births and deaths; and to follow the timing of events in Corrie’s life and travels in considerable detail.

  This timeline and family tree appear in the book entitled A Visit to the Hiding Place: The Life-Changing Experiences of Corrie ten Boom, written by Emily S. Smith and published by the Corrie ten Boom House Foundation in Haarlem, the Netherlands. Our warmest thanks to Emily and to Frits Nieuwstraten, director of the Foundation, for granting us permission to reproduce these invaluable pieces of work. (This permission covers use in all languages and all editions throughout the world.)

  The Beje, the Ten Booms’ home that contains the hiding place, is now a museum—the Corrie ten Boom House.

  The Ten Boom Family

  All locations in the Netherlands, unless noted. Van Woerden information verified by Inge van Woerden. Other information provided by Hendrik ten Boom, Chief of Archives, Rotterdam (nephew of Casper).

  Ten Boom Family Timeline

  This timeline contains many highlights in the Ten Boom family’s life and in Corrie’s ministry.

  1837

  Willem ten Boom (Corrie’s grandfather) rents shop space and opens Ten Boom Horlogerie (watch shop) at Barteljorisstraat 19, Haarlem. In 1849, he is able to purchase the house for 1,200 guilders (FtB 27).

  1841

  Willem marries Geertruida van Gogh. They have thirteen children, but eight die before age four.

  1844

  Willem begins a prayer group to “pray for the peace of Jerusalem” (FH 15).

  1856

  Geertruida dies of tuberculosis at age 42 (FtB 26).

  1858

  Willem marries Elisabeth Bel February 10. They have six children; two die very young.

  1859

  Casper ten Boom (Corrie’s father, the oldest of Elisabeth’s children) is born May 18.

  1884

  Casper and Cornelia (Cor) Luitingh wed October 16. They reside at 28 Korte Prinsengracht, Amsterdam.

  1885

  Elisabeth (Betsie) is born August 19. Tante (Aunt) Anna (Cor’s sister) comes to live with the family.

  1886

  Willem is born November 21.

  1888

  Hendrik Jan is born September 12 but dies March 6, 1889.

  1890

  Arnolda Johanna (Nollie) is born September 25. Ten Booms move to another house in Amsterdam (FtB 47).

  1891

  Grandfather Willem dies December 4, age 75.

  1892

  Cornelia Arnolda Johanna (Corrie) is born April 15 on Good Friday, about one month premature. Casper and family move from Amsterdam to a rented house in Haarlem so he can work in Ten Boom Horlogerie (FtB 52-53). Corrie is christened in the Dutch Reformed Church in July (PerL). (From this point on, Corrie’s age appears in brackets after the year. Corrie’s birthday is April 15. The age listed for each year is her age following her birthday.)

  1895 [3]

  Tante Jans (Cor’s sister) comes to live with the Ten Booms.

  1897 [5]

  Elisabeth (Casper’s mother) moves from Barteljorisstraat 19, and Casper and family move in. Casper has house remodeled (FtB 55). Corrie prays and gives her life to Jesus (FH 24).

  1909 [17]

  Papa and Mama celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. Corrie has completed primary and secondary school and studies at Domestic Science School (FtB 94). Ten Booms begin a missions study group in their home.

  1910 [18]

  Corrie takes classes at a Bible school in Haarlem for two years. She fails her final exam but receives her diploma eight years later (FH 93–94).

  1911 [19]

  Corrie works as an au pair (governess). Tante Bep (Cor’s sister, who also lived with the Ten Booms) dies of tuberculosis at age 70. Corrie returns home (FH 75). Mama has slight stroke (FH 93).

  1914 [22]

  World War I begins. Corrie has appendectomy following months of bed rest (PerL).

  1916 [24]

  Willem is ordained. He is called to a church in Made; the family attends his first sermon. In Made, Corrie’s friend Karel (not his real name) talks with her about their future together. They see each other again when Willem marries Tine van Veen August 23. In November, Corrie’s heart is broken when Karel introduces her to his fiancée (HP 59–60). Willem pastors in Made four years, then in Zuijlen until 1926.

  1918 [26]

  Mama has major stroke (HP 62–63). As World War I ends, Ten Booms take in Willy, Katy, and Mrs. Treckmann and her children Ruth and Martha, all from Germany (FH 102–4).

  1919 [27]

  Tante Jans dies from diabetes at age 71. Nollie marries Frederik “Flip” van Woerden July 23.

  1920 [28]

  Corrie completes her watchmaking apprenticeship in two factories in Switzerland (PerL).

  1921 [29]

  Mama dies October 17 at age 63. Corrie works in clock shop full-time; Betsie takes over housekeeping (FH 113).

  1924 [32]

  Corrie becomes Holland’s first licensed woman watchmaker (HP 69).

  1925 [33]

  Tante Anna dies March 7 at age 64. Ten Booms begin to take in missionary children, three of them from one family: Puck, Hans, Hardy (FH 133), Lessie (FH134), Miep (FH 137), and Marijke (FH 140). In 1925, there are seven foster children total, known as the Red Cap Club. Corrie starts Christian girls’ clubs; she works with them until 1940, when the Nazis order no group meetings (FH 125–82).

  1926 [34]

  Willem starts working with the Society for Israel. He goes to Leipzig, Germany, for one year to study for his doctorate, writes his thesis on racial anti-Semitism, and receives his Doctorate of Philosophy in 1928 (FtB 106).

  1937 [45]

  The 100th anniversary party of Ten Boom Horlogerie (watch shop) is held.

  1940 [48]

  Nazis invade Holland beginning May 10. Occupation lasts five years.

  1941 [49]

  In November, Corrie obtains help from Willem and Kik ten Boom to find a safe house for two Jewish friends (HP 86–87).

  1942 [50]

  Early spring, Corrie decides she must help save Jewish people
. She becomes involved in the underground. Her nephew Peter van Woerden spends time in prison for showing patriotism to Holland (HP 91–93).

  1943 [51]

  Many Jews pass through the Ten Booms’ home; most are relocated quickly. The names mentioned below are those who spent extended time with the family.

  May 13

  Ten Booms take young Dutchman Hans Poley into hiding; he becomes involved in the underground (RHP 15).

  May 14

  Hansje “Thea” Frankfort-Israels (Jew) moves in (RHP 29).

  June

  Mary van Itallie (Jew), Henk Wessels, and Leendert Kip (underground workers) move in.

  June 2

  First drill for newly constructed hiding place is held (RHP 44).

  June 28

  Meyer Mossel, “Eusie,” (Jew) moves in (RHP 47).

  July

  Henk Wiedijk (underground worker) moves in (RHP 64). Henk Wessels and Leendert Kip find other places to live, so Mr. de Vries (Jew) moves in (RHP 75).

  August 14

  Nollie is arrested for hiding a Jew. She spends four weeks in prison. Due to danger of Gestapo searching family members’ homes, all in hiding leave Beje (Ten Booms’ home) for other safe houses. Mary, Eusie, Henk, and Hans return in three weeks. The others remain elsewhere (RHP 81–85). Mirjam de Jong (Jew) moves in (RHP 86).

  September 30

  All in hiding leave Beje again due to Gestapo worries (RHP 90). Mary, Eusie, and Hans return in two weeks (RHP 96). Nel (Jew) and Ronnie Gazan (Jew—real name Ronnie da Costa) move in (RHP 97).

  1944 [52]

  January

  Meta (Martha) and Paula Monsanto (Jews) move in (RHP 118). Paula leaves and moves in with Hans Poley’s parents (RHP 120). Willem ten Boom’s home is raided by Gestapo; no evidence is found (RHP 121).

  February 5

  Hans Poley is arrested trying to warn another family of a Gestapo raid (RHP 125). Because of danger, all in hiding leave Beje (RHP 139). Eusie, Mary, Martha, and Ronnie return in one week (RHP 140). These are the four Jews living in Beje on February 28.