Through the incidents in these chapters, the author begins her depiction of The Cumulative Horrors of Antisemitic Prejudice and Genocide. Miri’s first moment is one of fear, and her panic at hearing sirens in Chapter 1—“sirens meant trouble” (1)—contextualizes the atmosphere of fear in wartime France, particularly for Jews. Miri’s family’s circumstances have changed drastically due to the Nazi regime, which forced them to flee their comfortable life in Germany to live in poverty in the crowded Pletzl in Paris, where they constantly fear deportation or violence. Miri’s family’s Jewish identity is established in Mama’s “soft Yiddish” as she speaks to Miri (1); Yiddish was widely spoken by European Jews in the 1940s. Furthermore, the character names, such as Monsieur Rosenbaum and Miriam, are recognizably Jewish. Miri’s mother mends Miri’s “other dress” (5), implying that Miri only owns two; the family struggles in poverty, as do the Rosenbaums next door.

Food is also scarce; this is illustrated in families’ ration books, which regulate the amount of food allotted to each person. Furthermore, the baker insists that he can only sell Miri three loaves of bread when she goes to buy food for the two families. Brubaker Bradley’s characters’ experiences reveal that food and supplies in occupied France were stretched thin; food was sent to German citizens and soldiers, meaning that French soldiers, refugees, and citizens’ supplies and food were strictly rationed. In particular, there is a dire absence of fresh fruit and vegetables; this scarcity affects Nora’s health, further emphasizing the families’ poverty and demonstrating the poverty afflicting many in wartime Paris: “She wasn’t growing as well as she should” (8). Miri’s father’s careful preservation of the slice of dried lemon for Nora illustrates the scarcity of fresh produce on the streets of Paris during the war. Furthermore, the tomato, which Miri buys for the families’ Shabbos feast, is treated with reverence: “Mama turned the tomato gently in her hands. ‘This is beautiful’” (12). The family’s change in circumstances is further established in the contrast between Miri and Mama’s wonder over the tomato and Miri’s memories of their lush vegetable garden in Berlin; they grew such an abundance of tomatoes that they gave them away: “We grew as many tomatoes as we could possibly want and still had extra to share with our friends” (12). Miri recalls that “[they]’d have green space and beautiful things” (8).

Miri’s family’s loss of wealth is made clear; they needed to flee for their safety, and their home and possessions were seized by the Third Reich. Brubaker Bradley refers to the dispossession of Jewish homes and possessions in Germany (and other parts of Europe occupied by the Nazis). Jews were declared enemies of the state and were deported to concentration or death camps; they no longer legally owned their possessions or property. The seizure of Jewish homes, property, and wealth was a central component of Hitler’s desire to remove Jews from the German economy. Hitler asserted that the Jews had gained their wealth through theft from the “Aryans,” one of many untrue statements that became a rationale for the Jewish genocide.

The increasing discrimination against Jews in Paris through the course of 1942 is characterized by Monsieur Thireau’s changing behavior toward Miri. In Chapter 2, he catches Miri when she falls and smiles at her. His kindness and friendly manner toward her—“‘You’re Miriam, yes?’ he said, smiling” (11)—illustrates his sympathy toward Miri and other Jews. This changes drastically as 1942 progresses; French police are responsible for the ruthless roundup of Jews from the Pletzl. The violence and indiscriminate nature of the roundup are emphasized. This one was not just recruiting workers for factories, as in previous roundups, but targeting all Jewish people for extermination at death camps: “They dragged every person they found out into the street: a few men, but also women and children and babies and frail old people who walked with stick[s]” (22). Their violence and cruelty are further characterized by Monsieur Thireau slapping Miri in the face; this is a significant change in his manner toward her. In a broader sense, Thireau’s unprovoked aggression and participation in the roundup symbolize the collusion of French authorities and police with systemic antisemitism, which led to the murder of millions of Jewish people. This is echoed in Sister Félicité’s description of the deportation of the Parisian Jews from the vélodrome: “‘They’re taking people out of the vélodrome,’ she said. ‘They’re loading them into trucks, packed tight. No one knows where they’re going. The people are wretched. They’re suffering. They’re being shown no mercy’” (33).

As Miri navigates her circumstances, she demonstrates Bravery in the Face of Danger, even as she still has moments of fear and concern. She is continually shown as having to overcome fear in small tasks—shopping for her family—and in more considerable feats of courage—such as escaping with Nora. The bravery of others is also on display: Madame Rosenbaum, who gives Nora to Miri to save her life; Sister Félicité, who finds a way to save both girls; the men who drive the girls to safety; and the other nuns who provide long-term shelter for Miri and other Jewish girls.

The danger of being a Jew in France after the roundup is illustrated in the creation of the fake cartités for Miri and Nora, as well as their adoption of Christian pseudonyms, all steps to disguise their true identity. Later, Miri learns that other Jewish children are hiding in French homes and schools. Beatrice is initially characterized as “the sort of girl Nazis loved” (40). With her blonde hair and blue eyes, Beatrice seems to fit the stereotypical “Aryan” appearance prized by the Nazi Party. Furthermore, Beatrice devoutly recites the Catholic prayers and hymns, criticizing Miri when Miri errs. This red herring leads the reader away from the truth of Beatrice’s Jewish identity. Beatrice’s extremely devout manner and her questioning of Miri—“Beatrice’s blond hair swung as she turned to glare at me. ‘What were you muttering?’ she said. ‘I could hear you. It didn’t sound right’” (46)—are actually motivated by a desire to keep Miri safe.

Gardens, especially those that grow vegetables, are established as a motif that denotes safety and plenty; Miri remembers the family’s plentiful tomatoes in Berlin during a time of safety and abundance. When Miri reaches the convent school, she feels comforted by the smell and sight of the kitchen garden: “A hot, heavy smell rose from them, one I remembered from our garden in Berlin, the pungent smell of soil and tomato plants in sun. How wonderful those tomatoes would taste, sweet and warm and tangy” (39). Tellingly, Miri feels comfort in this setting: “For the first time in days, I felt myself relax” (39). After the years of scarcity in Paris, Miri is reminded of the days of plenty in Berlin. The convent is established as a place where Miri can have access to plentiful, fresh food.

The mystery of Catherine de’ Medici is introduced in these chapters. The stern woman’s true identity (as a ghost only visible to her respective gardeners) is hinted at in her surprise when Miri looks at her: “An old woman in a long black dress—was still staring at me. When I looked back at her, her eyes widened and her gaze sharpened” (36).