Boston North Inc.
Present Memories
When I was a child, the world was comprised of two kinds of nations: those nations that would not allow the Jews out .. . and those nations that would not allow the Jews in.
When the Nazis invaded Poland in 1939, my family was trapped. Only my sister and I were to survive the Holocaust.
I was 11 years old. Soon we were herded into the Krakow Ghetto, lists . . . transports . . . ‘resettlement’ – the big lie. My beautiful mother was taken to Belzec. Gone forever.
I turned to my diary and wrote:
Where is your grave?
Where did you die?
Why did you go away?
Why did you leave
Your little girl
That rainy autumn day?
I still can hear
The words you spoke:
“You tell the world, my child.”
Your eyes as green
as emeralds
Were quiet and so mild.
You held my hand
Your face was white
And silent like a stone,
You pressed something
Into my palm . .
And then . . . then you were gone.
I suffered, but
I didn’t cry:
The pain so fierce, so deep . .
It pierced my heart
and squeezed it dry.
And then, I fell asleep.
Asleep in agony
And dreams . .
A nightmare that was true . . .
I heard the shots,
The screams that came
From us, from me and you.
I promised I would
Tell the world . .
But where to find the words
To speak of
Innocence and love,
And tell how much it hurts . . .
About those faces
Weak and pale,
Those dizzy eyes around,
Six million lips
That whispered “help”
But never made a sound . . .
To tell about
The loss . . the grief,
The dread of death and cold,
Of wickedness
And misery . . .
O no!. . . it can’t be told.
In Memory of My Mother
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