One day, I was twirling a rope with children in the history experience room, using a Reeperbahn. A young woman joined her with her young daughter and asked me to twirl a rope for her daughter as well. I just saw the young woman again. She winked at me. That reminds me of the openness she showed me. On a day I'll always remember, she told me that she had come to this square with her school as a child and that she came almost every day, even though she always had to take the bus to get here from the city center. I asked her why. Because she experienced a lot of violence at home and found love in this square. She couldn't hold back her tears. I went with her to Frank, one of the founders of our square, to describe to him again what she had told me—actually a stranger—with such openness, even to him, whom she had known as a child. She did, and the tears flowed again. Frank, too, was moved. And today, she and her little daughter are happily laughing as they ride in the Catcar across this square, which has given her the strength to be so open.
