A Slice of Bread

And this I remember:
We were to receive food.
Nobody knew any details... but then we saw what it was... Flour, yellow flour, also better known as cornmeal.
In Germany we had never heard of it, at least not while I was growing up.
The bakers in the bake shops -the ones that were still operational- quickly learned how to make the most wonderful delicacy, that crumbly yellow bread, out of it.
Ovens were kept going throughout that day and night... and soon the never to be forgotten smell of newly baked bread permeated the whole of our town.
In the meanwhile long lines were forming, where young and old alike stood awaiting their turn to receives that precious loaf.
I don't think that ever again did I taste anything as wonderful as that very first slice of bread that I was given to me on that day.