Camp Majdanek

Chapter 1: What I Knew Back Then

     I slipped on my best white, lace blouse and a flowy, black skirt that came down to my ankles. I put on an old but beautiful cream-colored sweater my grandma had given to me before she passed away last summer. It was a small, thoughtful gift but it was sentimental. When I wore it, I felt like I was portraying a younger and more elegant version of her. I pinned the gold star on the front of my blouse. It felt like a mark of shame. Like we were sinners with a big target on our heads.

It was Sunday, August 27th, 1939. My family and I were going to the Temple for the morning sermon.

I came out of my room to find my mother and sister rushing to get ready. My mother had just gotten Julia dressed and was going to tie her wavy brunette hair in ribbons. Julia's hair was thick and ran down to her lower back. As mother was untangling Julia's messy bed hair Julia cried out, "Oww! That hurt!" She pouted for a second then said, "Why do we have to be all fancy and go to Temple, it's boring, all he does is talk."

With her being six years old, it was understandable she did not want to sit an hour and listen to a man talk about matters beyond her comprehension.

"It's important to serve God so he can grant you forgiveness for your sins, " John explained.

He was twelve, very smart, and looked even smarter due to the glasses he wore.

Mother leaned on the counter with her hand and took a deep breath. I figured she had been up at least two hours getting herself, my brother, and sister ready. I flashed her a smile of reassurance and she smiled back. My mother's smile used to light every room she went into and comforted people. Her parents died, Her father from a heart attack and her mother a few months later from a fall and no one got there in time to help her. These events only happened last year and my mother hasn't been the same since. She lost that charm in her smile.

At the temple, the Rabbi had a very important message. My mother had to plug Julia's ears so she wouldn't be worried about what could happen. He told us that Hitler and the Nazis were coming closer. He would have to cancel services because Hitler would be after us. All of the Temples in Poland would have to close. I really wanted to enjoy this time with God because I didn't know when or if I would come here again.

We knew the signs.

We've heard the warnings.

Yet we were anchored here.

Why?

Centuries of history, memory, and tradition would fade away as if our history was written on fragile paper, not on stone.

Throughout that day I pondered what the Rabbi had said. What if they do come for us? What if we all die because of it? I tried not to worry too much and focus on an assignment that was due tomorrow.

That day consisted of work, listening to our favorite show on the radio, and going on a walk in the late afternoon.

On Monday I went back to school. My school was a three-minute walk from our house. I went to an all-Jewish secondary school. The only one in town and they were constantly keeping watch because of the three-month-old war upon us. I helped my siblings get ready, then headed out the door. Mother walked John and Julia to their school. Right as I stepped outside the door, a cool wind hit me. It was chilly but not unbearable. I looked down at the daily newspaper on the doormat. It read August, 30th 1939.

Every day, the headline would tell us where the Nazis were. The front picture was always of Adolf Hitler's sick face. We were well aware that we could be in danger and that we would have to go into hiding soon. I wish there would be one day where I wouldn't have to think about him. So every day at school I kept a smile and my head up. Because that's what everyone says to do. "Don't worry. There's time for worrying." Well, how do you know when it's too late.