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cook. Whenever she worked her special magic, the aroma of wonderful food permeated every room of the house. Her enormous body moved through the farmhouse kitchen like a whale swimming the seven seas. With great care she prepared thick slices of ham, poached eggs, and freshly baked bread. The responsibility to see her husband well fed before he tended the land would never be taken lightly. This was the only life she knew, the only life she understood. She had gone from her father’s farm to her husband’s.
    Klaus Bruchmeier , her spouse - a kind, gentle, soft-spoken man - had proved to be a good provider and a loving husband . In so many ways, fortune had smiled upon her, and never, not even for a day, did she forget to give thanks. In the beginning they’d both been aware that they’d entered into a marriage of convenience. He was a shy man, awkward around women, but badly in need of a wife who could help him with his chores. He was an only child who’d lost his father a year before they met. She was a sheltered girl, not blessed with a pretty face or attractive figure. When their mothers had introduced them, it was with the hope of a marriage that would bring many children to help with the farm work. The elder Frau Bruchmeier had lived with the newlyweds, a nd although she could be demanding, Siegland had cared deeply for her, and she had wept when her mother-in- law passed away in her sleep just a few months after the wedding.  The farm work was hard, but as the ye ars together bound Klaus and Sie gland to each other, their love grew into a joyous union. They had good fortune because their farm lay in the fertile highlands outside of Munich. It served them well, providing abundant crops , including asparagus, onions, and a huge bounty of red strawberries every June.
    Before the Nazis came into power, Klaus had hired workers to help him with the harvest, and when he had taken his crops to market, he ’d always returned with a full purse. They owned a single cow for milk and cheese, three hens for fresh eggs, a rooster who made sure that Klaus never overslept, and of course, the farmer’s best friend, the old gray plow horse. In good years, the couple purchased a pig to slaughter for meat for the winter. In leaner years, they managed to trade for wheat, and still found plenty to eat from what the farm produced. The neighbors had always been generous with the Bruchmeiers , and they returned the favors. Klaus, a warm and appreciative man, showed his wife the utmost respect and fondness. He knew how well she cared for him and he bestowed upon her all of the love a man could give.
    Although she had a full a nd satisfying life, Siegland had one overwhelming regre t - s he could not have children . The desire gnawed at her, and she tried to it fill with tremendous amounts of food. Over the years she had grown quite fat. Klaus, a large man himself, did not mind. Instead , he enjoyed the glorious meals she painstakingly prepared for him, and his greatest fulfillment in life became her bright and open smile. As she sat across from her husband at the breakfast table, Siegland slathered butter across a thick slice of freshly-baked, dark, grainy bread. With love and care, she covered the butter with strawberry jam that she had canned the previous summer, and then licked her lips as she bit into the hearty fare. Satisfied with her preparations, she smiled at her husband, then cut another slice of the bread and prepared it in the same manner for him. Klaus’ full face broke into a large, jagged, yellow-toothed smile that warmed her heart even now, after all of the years that they had spent as husband and wife. Memories came flooding back to her of their early days together. How skinny he had been; only his bulbous nose had had any flesh to speak of. But after years of her coddling and delectable cooking, she had fattened him up, and she smiled to think how healthy and strong he had become - robust, she called it. Klaus had grown to