Dear Florence,
Although you asked me to write some more Gansehaufel memories which I did
together with another short story which I hope you got.
As for the Ghetto, well it wasn't that funny and I carry only 2 memories
with me. One was that Popovici's wife, who was a most beautiful woman, and I
often met on the Herrengasse, while walking with my most beautiful Pekingese
dog. She fell in love with it and came to the Ghetto told my mother that
we'll get a permit to leave if we give her the dog. Well mother did and we
did get our permit (no hard feelings there).
Our home with everything in it, was taken over so we moved in with my aunt
and lived pretty crowded but, as the family was together, we were ok.
The yellow star we wore all the time. Mine, because I did not Jewish, was
5cm by 5. I was very proud to belong to the Chosen people, and still am.
Our friends were sent to work for the Germans in a camp far away and that
was more worrying than how or where we lived. Thank God, they all came back
and that was the main thing. The work Camp was called "Munca de folos
obstec" (I think I wrote that OK??)
I think I would translate it "Work for the benefit of the people??"
There is another story which I can tell you.
When the deportations continued, the Betar wanted to help. So we, the
members of our group, went out collecting old things and blankets. Somehow,
we went on a Friday lunchtime,and walked for quite some time. Here and
there,in the Jewish Quarter there were no rich people, we got something or
other. In the end we came to a shack with a Mezzua on it, the door was open
and we knocked -no answer-. We opened the door quietly, no movement, but we
were in a bedroom, above the beds drying snow white laundry and through a
glass door a tiny light. We thought some hooligans must have killed the
people living there We opened the door and there stood a little woman
lighting her candles WE GOT INTO SHABBAT!!! The woman finished praying
she looked at us, we could have killed her, and asked us in and to eat some
cookies for Shabbat. We couldn't have been more embarrassed and all we could
do
asked her forgiveness. She asked what made us come and we told her. Her
answer was: "How kind of you to want to help but I took my family that
morning to the train, they're all gone but God will take care of them".
Since then when I light my Shabbes candles I don't wash the candle-stick and
every drop of wax that accumulates there is in memory of that woman whose
name I never knew and will always remember.
Regards,
anny
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Received on 2009-06-13 17:16:10
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