Gentle, suspenseful, humorous, terrible—this is the true story that comes along only once in a generation.

At one time Corrie ten Boom would have laughed at the idea that there would ever be a story to tell. For the first fifty years of her life nothing at all out of the ordinary had ever happened to her. She was an old-maid watchmaker living contently with her spinster sister and their elderly father in the tiny Dutch house over their shop. Their uneventful days, as regulated as their own watches, revolved around their abiding love for one another—in one of the warmest, most captivating families ever caught between the covers of a book.

Yet, early in the pages of The Hiding Place Corrie cries out, "Father! Betsie! If I had know would I have gone ahead? Could I have done the things I did? But how could I know? How could I imagine that this white-haired man, called Grandfather by all the children of Haarlem, thrown by strangers into a grave without a name?

"And Betsie, with her high lace collar and her gift for making beauty all around her, how could I picture this dearest person on earth to me inside a concentration camp?"

From the dust jacket