There is a kind of silence that lives between the lines of a family story. Not absence ~ never that, but a quiet that holds what could not be said at the time. As I prepare for Anzac Day, I find myself sitting with one of those silences. His name was Thomas Francis Cass. Just nineteen years old. A boy, really. A son of Johanna and John, my 2 x great grandparents who was raised in Footscray, in a home that knew both hardship and deep, enduring faith. A home where children were