By Carrie Mollenkopf

Pennsylvania, December 28, 1968

It was almost midnight. Eleven-thirty-three to be exact. Sara’s time was almost up. She had a feeling that this was going to be the day. After all, she was ninety years old and her body was just plain worn out. Not to mention that Rhonda had gone into labor that morning, the timing was perfect. Sara had thought that last year was going to be it, but no, she lingered on for another long fifteen months. It was now December 28 and the snow was falling, a perfect day to transition from this life and into the next.

Sara had wanted to go to the hospital and be there for the birth, just as tradition held. But Rhonda had pitched such a fit that excuses were made to leave the old lady at home. “It’s too cold” and “We’ll bring you by in tomorrow to see the baby” were spouted by that fool she married. Tomorrow would be too late, time had run out. It wasn’t worry over the old lady that fueled Rhonda’s ire, it was fear. Fear of her precious reputation. Rhonda did not want Sara bringing any of her superstitious nonsense with her. What would the hospital staff think of an old lady carrying charms and whispering spells around a new baby? After all, Rhonda worked at this hospital; she could imagine the gossip that would run rampant if anyone met her crazy grandmother.

Eleven-thirty-four. The ink was not even dry when she felt the first pangs in her chest. She looked down at her own name: Sara Kristolik b. October 5, 1878 d. December 28, 1968. And further down where she added a branch under Rhonda’s with the name clearly written in black curling letters Kara Anna Erskine b. December 28, 1968. Sara put the diary away and slowly folded the family tree, tucking it inside its box along with the heirlooms she had guarded over for almost a century. Fortunately, her term as sentinel had been relatively uneventful; she could only pray that the next keeper would be so lucky. Sara eased her creaking body down in a chair facing the window and sadly smiled watching the snowfall. Just as her heart sounded its last beat, Rhonda’s baby wailed its first cry. There would be another to take up the watch, and so the legacy will continue.

Poland/Germany border, December 28 in the year of our Lord 1772

Karolina trembled as she dug into the floor of the root cellar. It was only a matter of time before they came for her. It was not her fault, the birth simply went wrong. Magdalena and her baby were simply not meant to survive. Karolina had expected a rough delivery; after all, Magda was well past the age to be having children. It was a miracle that she became pregnant at all. Her husband Marius never ceased to brag that it was his work as magistrate that had finally brought God’s favor upon them after years of being childless. He spoiled her terribly. She hardly lifted a finger for the past nine months; the resulting weight gain was not due to the baby, but a lack of exercise. He called in numerous physicians to care for her and give their grand opinions along with their potions. Old men who knew absolutely nothing about childbirth.

Karolina and Magdalena had been friends since they were children. A surprising combination of opposites; where Magda was stunningly beautiful, Lina was just as plain. Where Magda had every comfort of life Lina’s family scraped a living on a small farm. The only advantage Karolina ever had over Magda was her intelligence. Magda was often flighty and fanciful, too often absorbed in a world of fairies and magic. Karolina was firmly grounded in reality. It was rare for a girl to read, let alone want to pursue the sciences. Formal schooling was only for wealthy boys, but Lina found that she could find an outlet for her inquisitive nature spending hours with Old Maria the village midwife and medicine woman.

Maria’s cottage in the orchard was a world of wonders for Karolina, full of herbs and ancient texts with exotic cures for just about everything. While Maria loved having Karolina around, she regularly cautioned her about what it meant to have knowledge. Knowledge was power, one that could not be taken away, but one that could also create fear in others without it. Lina must always be careful not to do anything that would frighten anyone. Often, this meant being silent while stupid men made all the decisions. The ideas of the Enlightenment had yet to reach this far corner of the world. With one toe in the modern world and one foot still planted in the past, superstition and fear still swayed the judgement of many.

After Maria died, it was only natural that people would seek Karolina out as a replacement. After all Lina had practically done all of her work in the later years of Maria’s life. The villagers had come to depend upon her simple cures and practical medicine. She almost had an extra sense of knowing just what a person needed. It would seem that she would spend the rest of her live as Maria had, in service to the sick and pregnant. That sounded just fine to Lina as she eventually took up residence in Maria’s old cottage. A life of contentment loomed happily in Lina’s future. Until the day Magdalena went into labor.

Karolina had made regular visits to her childhood friend all throughout her pregnancy. Never in an official capacity of course, was a simple midwife not good enough to deliver the heir of the town magistrate. However, Lina able to sneak in some special teas to help with the morning sickness that never seemed to stop, and the chronic indigestion from all the rich food Marius insisted Magda consume.

Magda’s time was coming close near Christmas, another omen of God’s favor according to Marius. It was snowing heavily on Christmas Eve; the night Magda’s pains began. The fat flakes silently fell; pushing people indoors as the village rapidly became buried.

Marius ran about like a madman through the halls of the manor house. Where was the doctor? He had sent his footman out hours ago to fetch him, but had yet to hear the return of the carriage. By midnight, Magda had begun screaming. Wracked with pain, she had begun to hallucinate, going back to her childhood whimsies of elves she called out to imaginary creatures. Elves were clawing at the bed trying to take the baby. She demanded that her old friend Karolina chase them away.

In desperation to sooth his wife, and with no doctor coming through the storm, Marius finally had Karolina brought in to deliver his child. He had never liked the deep friendship between Magdalena and Karolina, it left him out. In his eyes there was something wrong with a woman who lived alone and spent her life delivering babies, but had none of her own. Truth be told, she frightened him with her direct gaze and contemptuous remarks about how he took care of HIS wife and HIS future child. It galled him to be at her mercy, but he could find a way to be rid of her once it was over.

Shortly after midnight, Magdalena pushed forth a tiny squalling baby girl and a puddle of blood that slowly drained the life from her. Karolina had wrapped the baby and laid it in her mother’s arms for the remaining time Magda had left. “She’s beautiful, just like her mama” whispered Karolina. “What will you name her?”

“Lilliana” my perfect little flower.

Magda was pale and shaky as she took her daughter and held her tightly to her chest. “promise me you will always look out for my Lilliana and teach her everything you know” she demanded of Karolina.

Karolina looked sideways to see Marius deeply frowning at her. Behind him was Father Dominic with his arms folded across his bible, waiting to give last rites.

“Of course she promises” said Marius, “and I shall see to it that she has everything she needs; now you just rest and save your strength.”

Within the hour, Magdalena was gone.

It was then, that Marius noticed that his little girl was not so perfect.

It caused an unprecedented uproar. The poor child was brought naked to the freezing church so she could be examined in a “safe place”. Safe from what? Pneumonia? Wondered Karolina.

Old Father Dominic said it was the work of the devil, brought by a woman who knew things that only could have come by the power of Satan. Only Satan could have killed Magdalena and brought a child with webbed hands and feet into the world on Christmas. Marius as magistrate had an obligation to God and the people in his charge to keep evil from their lives.

Karolina hoped that it was just grief talking; Marius had just lost his wife and was looking for an outlet, but decided that out of his sight was a better place to be.

Three days was all it took for rumors of a demon child to cause hysteria. Karolina was a minion of the devil and was to be taken in for questioning all of her cures and positive treatments were forgotten. She needed to hide her medicine journal before they could use it as evidence against her, not that she ever knew of an innocent ruling once the witch finders came. The small leather bound volume was carefully wrapped and buried in a box under the potato bin. Hopefully someday, someone would see its value. Karolina was upstairs, quietly drinking tea and waiting at the window when they came for her. She could already smell the bonfire burning as they bound her in chains.