Transcending Darkness: A Girl’s Journey Out of the Holocaust

19. Awakening

19 Awakening D espite many harsh experiences, our stay in Działoszyce restored us. Our cousins and a small community of Jewish survivors took us in. Fredka and I were free to walk in the fields and meadows that rolled beyond the outskirts of the town. Our hearts found room to grow again. New people stepped into our lives, and life was returning in tiny sips! Our appearance improved. Looking in the mirror, I saw a lean girl with a serious face, dressed in a plain skirt and blouse, and shoes. My once-hollow cheeks and skeletal body were rounding out. But every gain creates new needs. I was absolutely miserable because I did not have the money to buy a bra. Today, young women step out proudly without wearing one, but when I was a young girl in Działoszyce, young ladies were embarrassed about their bodies. My shame about not wearing a bra was so great that I often walked stiffly with minced steps in order to minimize the bounce of my breasts. To make matters more unbearable, David would tease me—as big brothers often do—“Oh, look at it bob like balloons!” Fredka was beautiful again. Mama too lost her ghostly appearance, but sadness and Liberation 128 unease still showed in the pinch of her brow. We had used clothes given to us by our cousins and friends. Mama, Fredka, and I never had money in Działoszyce and never entered a store. I even had a best friend again, Estusia Turkof. She had lost her family and had survived alone on false Aryan papers. Her uncle, the only other surviving member of her family, managed to find her after the liberation. They came to live in Działoszyce, her uncle’s hometown. Estusia was my age, petite, and graceful. A sprinkle of coppery freckles on her short nose almost matched the color of her honey-blond hair, and her wide blue eyes evoked trust. Estusia was capable of such lightness of heart and lifts of joy, in spite of the incredibly sad memories she carried locked inside her. I often walked across the market square to visit with my best friend. We shut the door to her room, and hours passed unnoticed while we shared our stories and hopes. I still remember the bright yellow sun at her window and two big, black, round shadows of our heads on the wall behind us. “How will we ever find each other after we leave Działoszyce?” we worried. We knew we would soon have to leave, but we had no inkling where we would eventually live. We tried to imagine ourselves in the future, but that baffled us. We had no role models . We did not know what the world was like beyond our recent experiences. Our war images were useless now. Yet pictures spawned in our young minds; princes would find us on our unknown path; small, simple homes would rise on hilltops in friendly towns, doors would open to us, we would have lots of good food, and everyone would smile. Sometimes we tossed away all serious thoughts, and we practiced popular dancing steps as we sang for accompaniment. Having a friend who shared the pain of loss, the magic of hope, and the power of imagination helped me find steps into the world of the living. The Fields Fredka and I had three other friends, all a little older and all boys. They had lived in Działoszyce before being sent to the concentration camps and knew the area well. Fredka, my best friend Estusia, and I depended on the three olive-skinned boys with smiling eyes to take us to solitary green fields at the outskirts of town, away from prejudice and hostility . We never left the room to see our friends without first sticking our heads out the door to check that no one else was on the steps. Then, we tiptoed down the stairs past the doors Awakening 129 that always remained closed tight. Sometimes a door would crack open and quickly slam shut till we were out of sight. Occasionally, we encountered the woman with the immobile face and discrete blue eyes on the steps. She always looked away and drew close to the wall as she slipped past us. Even though she tried to ignore us and pinched her mouth into a tight line...