Speaker 1: High excursionists, It's way back Wednesday on Into the Night Anthology,
a return to a story that left its mark. And
if you're a library member, don't forget. There's another story
waiting just for you. Be sure to check your email
if you haven't found your way there yet, listen all
the way to the end to find out how you
can become a story in my library. Welcome to Endo
the Night. I'm Nari, your guide on today's excursion down
a twisted path. Be careful not to get lost. Be
it dark or light, it's easy to lose your way.
Are you ready, then let's begin the call Autumn Blue
on the breeze. As trees waved in the sea of reds, oranges, yellows,
and lingering greens. Breathing in the refreshing, earthy smells of
a beautiful October morning, Greta Maxwell savored this season. Soon
the wind would bring a biting, icy chill, but for now,
the world seemed perfect. This was her favorite time of year,
and it made her sentimental as she longed for the
people she loved. Her eyes grew misty as she remembered
her husband's favorite line about the bitter cold air of
deep winter. It smells like Canada out there, he would say,
breathing the crisp bear into his lungs. Oh, how she
missed him. He would return one day. For now, she
relied on her own gumption and wits to make it
through the days. She never regretted choosing him above all
other men, even with the prolonged separations they endured, and
she knew their chance meeting had changed the course of
her life. He saved her, and that wasn't something Greta
was used to. She'd always been the one to save herself.
Her brother's absence also caused tears to well in her eyes. Yes,
it was her choice to leave their homeland of Germany,
but weekly phone calls with him just weren't enough. On
some days, this was one of those days, memories flooded back,
and she found herself lost in those long ago days
of childhood. In some ways, their youth was commonplace, yet
it had its extraordinary moments. The two remained remarkably close
regardless of the distance. No one truly understood her more
than her brother did. He's the only person who can
relate to what drives me to be who I am today.
She loaded her vehicle and pulled away from her hide
away set deep in the woods. Greta was a hermit
in many ways. Bad experiences with strangers and some family
members as a young girl created scars, and those scars
resulted in her desire to live as far away from
others as possible. As with many who suffered abuse as
a child, she carried a distrust of people in general.
The best way to avoid trouble, in her mind, was
to avoid the public. Once she was safely tucked back
into her home each night. She was kind and caring,
but none of her distant neighbors knew her well, and
she wanted to keep it that way. No one was
welcome at her house unless invited, and few were invited. Ironically,
at work, every one described her as a people person.
She loved to make others laugh, and she eased their
burdens whenever possible. People turned to Greta for moral support
when they felt down. Somehow, she empathized with them no
matter their struggle. A heart like that was born of survival.
She'd suffered hardships few knew of. Greta refused to make
herself the center of conversations. No, she was there to
give aid and comfort to others. She fiercely guarded her
own sadness and worries. For several years, as long as
any one could remember. She taught literature at a school
in the neighboring county. Watching fine writing impact young minds
was one of the most rewarding aspects of her job,
and she was quite attached to her school. Co workers
asked from time to time why she wouldn't move closer
to work. Others asked why she didn't find a job
closer to her home. That was nonsense as far as
Greta was concerned. If I love my job and I
love where I live, why would I want to make
a change. Her lengthy commute gave her time to prepare
for the day ahead in the mornings and to unwind
from a stressful day in the evenings. What was time anyway,
She'd learned to become patient, especially with her husband away
for so long, and if she was to be alone
for now, why not enjoy the sights she encountered during
her drive. On this October morning, the miles disappeared behind her,
and she thought about the profession she chose. Oh, how
she loved teaching, even if it had changed for the worse.
In her opinion, being a teacher was simple in her
early days of education. Back then, a teacher focused on
not only the content, but on inspiring her students. Now,
the world complicated her passion. Too many rules, too much
reliance on technology, and too much dependence on test scores
had practically ruined the joy of teaching. Yes, negligent parents
and lazy students played a part in the downfall of
modern day education. Greta understood that some families failed to
foster healthy childhoods. She dealt with the unruly children, those
who simply wanted someone to care. Greta relished her time
spent with her students. To her, teaching was always about
the children. Besides, no matter how many generations passed, children
were full of energy and being around them kept her young.
On this morning, she knew what her school expected of her.
Every Tuesday, Greta arrived with platters of tasty treats. People
for miles around talked about the fine desserts she created.
Some asked her to open her own bakery, but Greta
had her reasons for declining. However, did you know how
to make these? Margaret Humphrey stuffed another gooey bite into
her mouth. Greta barely had time to set the platter
on the table in the teacher's workroom before Margaret grabbed
a handful. Oh I learned how to bake as a
young girl back in Germany, it was expected of me. Well,
you know, I'm a big fan of your desserts. I
always admire people who carry on family traditions, Greta simply smiled.
It wasn't worth getting into the backstory of her baking skills.
It's enough to know they enjoy my goodies. Greta didn't
leave her students out either. No, she made sure every
child had a delicious snack during each class. She was
pretty sure some of the upper classmen took two or
three of her elective classes for that very reason. Double
and triple dipping her pastries was okay as far as
Greta was concerned. It made the children happy, and if
it got them to take more lift literature courses, then
all the better. Greta baked for one reason only. She
believed in turning bad experiences into positive ones. For her,
baking was designed to bring joy. No one needed to
know the price of those recipes. That night she arrived
at her eccentric little home in the woods. People whispered
about its unusual architecture, but Greta ignored their comments. The
design had a purpose. It reminded her of that house
years ago that shaped who she became. Some people run
from their ghosts, others embraced them, and Greta chose to
embrace hers. At exactly eight o'clock, as the flames in
her fireplace flickered and the shadows danced on the walls,
Greta called her beloved brother in Stuttgart. Hello, hansel Ah,
my dear Gretel, how I have looked forward to your call.
Thank you for joining me for this episode of the
Into the Night Anthology podcast. Written by Caroline Giamanco, narrated
by Nari, Theme music by Nico Rodriguez, all other original music,
sound design and editing by Omenhawk Studios. You can find
our links in the show notes. Into the Night is
on your favorite podcatcher, so make sure to like, subscribe
and leave a five star review to help other excursionists
to join us. I'll see you next time, and remember,
whether in the shadows or in the daylight, all twisted
paths leading into the Night. Into the Night Anthology is
a creative typo entertainment production you've been listening to way
back Wednesday from Into the Night Anthology. Library members already
have a second story waiting, and you can join them
anytime at Nari narrates dot com. Just look for the
blue Join the Library button. I'll see you there.