The Price I Paid for Survival
Our feelings are always there—waiting, attuned, alert, and yearning for attachment. So we were created. Such is the path of our lives.
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Read reflections and testimonies written by Holocaust survivors in their own words.
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Warme Chocola (Hot Chocolate)
When we returned to Holland in 1948 after living in Sweden for two years, we realized that food and goods were still rationed in the Netherlands. You could not just buy the amount you needed or wanted if you did not have the right ration coupons or enough of them.
My Complicated College Career
My two best subjects in high school in Poland were biology and chemistry, so it is no wonder that I decided to study pharmacy, a profession that would combine my scientific abilities and my desire to help people.
My Favorite Task Has Always Been to Be a Tour Guide
My favorite task has always been to be a tour guide. When I was a student, in order to pay for my vacations, I used to offer my services as a tour guide for students in Paris. I did that for several summers and even for spring vacations.
The Klikk
After almost a year’s absence from my hometown of Miskolc, I arrived in Budapest with Shosha, my sister, and Rozalia, my mother. We stayed at the home of my aunt, Bozsi, and her daughter, Magda. My uncle, Moka, Bozsi’s husband, unfortunately did not return from forced labor.
Our Jewish Life in Italy
I lived in Italy with my husband, Sidney, and our three daughters for almost four years from 1973 to 1976. We lived between Pisa and Livorno in Tuscany—one street away from the Mediterranean. We were stationed there with the US Army. It was a different posting from others we had experienced.
My Journey to America
Once, when I was a very young girl in Poland, I got lost walking with my aunt in the forest. “Are we in America?” I asked her. America was the farthest place on earth for a child my age.
What is America?
My mind was in turmoil. From one day to the next, I was whisked away from my happy, carefree life as a 10-year-old in Thorpe, England, to a large ship, on my way to America.
My First Few Days in the States
The first person to come to the United States from my family was my elder sister Jacqueline, who was hired by the United Nations as a secretary. It was in 1953. I was not even 15, and it made me dream of America, which I had discovered through movies, like How to Marry a Millionaire, with the beautiful skyline of New York City and Marylin Monroe.