The apartment was just starting to lose the last of the darkness when loud knocking woke her. Who in the world would dare to knock on her door at this ungodly hour? she thought.

Getting out of bed she grabbed her pile of skirts. One by one she slowly put them on. She knew each stitch, each flaw, and perfection of the skirts she layered on. She had sewn them one by one. Each skirt was a work of art in its simplicity. The color combination, along with texture and patterns is what made each unique.

She was down to only six skirts left. She made a mental note to schedule time to get to the city for fabric shopping.

Sniffing the air she only smelled the bakery next door. She was safe from a fire in her building. The person still pounding at her front door would not be bringing good news. She would need her armor of handmade skirts to keep her grounded.

Nothing good ever came from someone knocking on a front door at dawn.

The pounding noises became louder as each skirt was loving layered over the other and fastened for the day. Her ritual of morning dress ruined beyond repair. Grabbing her Winter shawl she made her way to the front door.

Taking a deep breath she stood on tiptoe and opened the small window in her front door. She proceeded to ask how she might be of help. The reply from her hallway was yelled in a language she didn't understand. Sighing, she opened the door to better communicate with the band of men she had seen through her tiny window.

Men in uniforms were filling the hallway to her apartment on the second floor. One man stood out among them. No words came out of his mouth as he looked at her with eyes that see into a soul. This man was no ordinary policeman. He didn't have to speak to be listened to.

Her spine straightened knowing what was ahead was not going to be over soon. Looking straight in his black eyes she asked if she could help him once again. Adding that she only spoke English.

The officer's eyes widened slightly when he heard her voice. No one noticed but her. He nodded his head at her. A deep clipped voice called out a name. A man barely out of his teens came forward. With a nervous stance, he saluted the officer and waited for orders.

She waited patiently as the exchange was made from the officer to the young recruit. All she could hope for now was the young man spoke a bit of English and had not lied about how much.