| Quote #7
"You guessed correctly," he told her. "There is no Great-aunt Birte, and never has been. Your mama lied to you, and so did I.
"We did so," he explained, "to help you to be brave, because we love you. Will you forgive us for that?" (9.21-22)
It's not like Henrik and Mama lied about where they stored the chocolate. So where do you draw the line on forgiving someone for lying? Would you forgive someone you loved if they lied to you for a good reason? Or do you think that lying is lying and there's never really a good reason for it?
| Quote #8
"Annemarie, you understand how dangerous this is. If any soldiers see you, if they stop you, you must pretend to be nothing more than a little girl. A silly, empty-headed little girl, taking lunch to a fisherman, a foolish uncle who forgot his bread and cheese." (13.32)
Annemarie has no clue what's in the package she's carrying. And you know what? That gets her off the hook—she can't lie, because she really doesn't know what she's holding. (This is kind of what Henrik was saying before, right? That sometimes it's safer not to know the truth?)
| Quote #9
Annemarie wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her sweater. "It wasn't hidden, any more than the napkin was. I don't know what it is." That, she realized, was true. She had no idea what was in the packet. (15.39)
But then again, not knowing is still just as scary (and tear-inducing). Man, we keep going back and forth on this one! What's your final verdict? Is it better to know the truth or not in this kind of serious situation?