Max's Mein Kampf

My Last Goodbyes

    February 18, 1939

To Rosa:

You are a woman whose qualities don't seem so apparent from the outside, but they cannot be overlooked if looked deep enough. You have such a big heart that it can barely fit inside your chest. To you, Rosa, go my deepest and truest thanks, and apologies. I do not know what I would have done without your kind help. You treated me as your own child, and cared for me when I needed it the most. You were my mother when mine was taken away.

To Hans:

I could never forget about how much my father would talk about you: Hans Hubermann, "my short wartime friend, yet the best friend I've ever had." He saved your life, I'm conscious of that, but he did not ever mention it more than once or twice, because he knew that you owed him nothing. Your friendship was repaying enough for him, as it is for me. Mr. Hubermann, I cannot thank you enough for helping me when I had no one else to turn to. I will leave today, but I do not want you to feel as if you were indebted to my father, you never were, and certainly you are not indebted to me. I don't want you to feel like you didn't fulfill that debt to my father, that you didn't pay it back. You have done more than enough, and for that, I thank you, and I respect you.

To Liesel:

My dear Liesel, you are the sister that I never had, and much more than that. You reminded me of what it felt like to be free, to feel the sun, and the air, you reminded me that I was still alive when I needed it. You gave me hope when I needed it most, and you reminded me of my mother so I would never forget her. You brought me gifts during my long sleep and cried for me, prayed, read me books, and did everything in your power to help me fight Death. You've kept me alive, Liesel, don't ever forget that. I know you will miss me, but one day I will come back, and give you that hug you've been longing for. Now, for you I have a special task. I want you to keep this rusty old journal of mine, and keep it safe. More importantly, I want you to write a book, for me, and for everyone. War is an ugly monster Liesel, I know that, but it is a task for the people who experience it to write and tell their story, and find, in that sea of horrors, some sort of beauty. Then, when you're ready, and you'll know when you are, I want you to tell the world about your story, and mine. If the words of a Jew won't do much to change the opinions of the German people about the war, I'm sure yours will. I am certain that, someday, your words, and the life in those words, will tell the story of the girl with the friend in the shadows, and how she kept him alive with her words, simple words, that yet mean so much.