What I Am Best At
I know that I am very good at many, many things. I am a good wife, mother, friend, worker, and was very good at sports, mostly tennis. But …
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Read reflections and testimonies written by Holocaust survivors in their own words.
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My Nonexistent Secret Places
There is no place in this world that I find myself where I would not be reminded of the dear, wonderful people who filled my near and distant life with so much love and so many good things.
Vacation and Politics
One of my more memorable vacations was in Bethany Beach, Delaware. Bethany Beach, you ask? Not hiking in the Swiss Alps, swimming in the Pacific Ocean in Hawaii, not tasting red wine in Provence, all of which I experienced.
My Sister Irena
My sister, Irena, was born on the 4th of July 1936. As a child she was blond and blue-eyed. Her nickname is Mila, which in Polish means nice. Mila and I had an idyllic childhood, playing together at the grounds of the lumber factory where my father worked.
My Street
After the war, coming from Drohobycz in December 1945, I lived on Fredry 18 Street in Wałbrzych, Poland.
The Clean Desk
The poet wrote, “You should have the cleanest desk of all To have bright thoughts, or you will not have them at all.”
Winter and Solstice
Thinking of a winter and solstice now, I see pictures projected on the wall. I see the skiers coming down the slope, Their colorful clothes—look, someone will fall.
Taharah
Taharah: what is it, why do we do it, and who does it? We translate the Hebrew word taharah as the purification of a dead body. According to our Bible, every person who enters this world arrives pure and clean; they are pure of sins and clean of misdeeds. When a person passes away and leaves this world, he should also leave pure. But, since no one knows in advance when one will pass away, how can you purify yourself before leaving this world? The answer is, you can’t. But, there is a way to purify a person who passed away by performing a taharah.
A Memoir
Tell it all – Share my story But I remember. Did I remember it years ago? What brings the memory to me now? A flash, a hidden thought surfaces: My memoir is truly only mine.
Adapting
How difficult it is to identify one thing I learned from all the different people who raised me. My parents, of course, were the first people I must think about. My instinct tells me they took advantage of an opportunity, and trusted family and strangers. I think this trust was really learning to adapt to new situations.
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Survivor Reflections and Testimonies
Listen to or read Holocaust survivors’ experiences, told in their own words through oral histories, written testimony, and public programs.