All rights reserved.
Esther Levenson
Kadima Heschel West MS
West Hill, CA
                               
                                We are all Responsible

      Poland, Chrzanow. I sat in my comforter, scared to death of what was going to happen
next. It was 1939 and I was 12 years old. My family and I sat, watching outside where there
were stores being crashed into, breaking of windows of my friends’ houses, and hearing “ No
Jews, No Jews,” over and over again. I peeked out the window and saw Nazis breaking into
houses, dragging people away. This was a common scene in an era known as the Holocaust.
     I remember that day. Tough, muscular Nazis burst into my house. We stood at the
windowsill watching outside, as they took my parents away. I couldn’t think clearly even though
I knew I had to. My loving parents, being taken away. Would I ever see them again? Tears ran
down my eyes. My brothers and sisters stood with me. We wanted to say something but we
couldn’t.
     I was scared, we were all scared. They were the Nazis, and they were against me, and my
family and all my people. If I spoke up for my parents the Nazis would kill me. I just walked
across the room in a quiet terror. The horrifying Nazis grabbed us and brought us all to a
cramped train. My two brother’s who were still alive were taken to a labor camp with my sister
and me.  We worked hard in that camp, and got very little to eat. My youngest brother died
from disease.
      There were always people talking about running away. They thought they could sneak by
the guards and the electrified gates without being caught. My oldest brother was one of those
crazy people. He begged me to come with him but I couldn’t; I was too frightened to go.
     I watched him as he tried to escape, with his small group behind him. Straight in front of
me, I saw him get killed. My heart started pounding, and my knees got tense and started to
shake. I couldn’t take this. I just saw my brother killed. I never got over it.
     During those times in the camp my sister always questioned G-d. Numerous times she
questioned whether G-d was really watching us, looking out for us Jews. She would always
say, “What did we do to deserve this? We have always been very good Jews. We went to a
Jewish school; we learned Torah; we prayed,  and yet we ended up here.” I would tell her not
to lose hope, but she was always so angry.
     Then my sister got very sick. I tried to take care of her, but we both still needed to work.
The only medicine I could give her was advise. I kept telling her, “Hope will keep you going. If
you lose hope you lose everything.”
     My sister was dying. I felt if she died, then I  would die, because she was all I had left.   We
had already been in the camp such a long time. I couldn’t give up. That very week as we were
working on making dresses in our tiny, cramped room, we heard people screaming in the
camp. They were chanting “ We are free; the Jews are free! We have survived! We are free,
the Jews are free!” We heard this over and over again! “It must be true,” I thought. If we had
not been liberated they would surely have been killed for shouting this. I ran out and saw that it
was true. The first thing I did was find a doctor for my sister. I was given an orange to share
with her. It had the sweetest smell and taste.
     We survived the Holocaust. In the hospital where my sister was being treated I met a young
man. I was 18 years old. We fell in love and were married. Now we want to share our stories
with everyone. People, the Jewish people and others might forget about the Holocaust. And
since that time many more genocides have occurred. Therefore I have taken the responsibility
of passing on my story. I ask you to take responsibility, too. During the 1930’s we could have
done something about Hitler. We could have stopped him, and by doing so, we could have
saved 6 million Jews, and 5 million others. In my own town, people could have said “no!” and
fought back. We didn’t take action at the time, and tragedy followed. So take what I have
learned to heart! If you do nothing about the wrongs being committed around you, you are
committing these wrongs yourself.


Source:
This story is based on a woman named Betty Daniels. She was interviewed by Esther
Levenson. Betty is now 87 years old.