Crossing the River

12. A New Year

12 A New Year The First Days In the blink of an eye, at dawn, the Germans were gone. In an instant the death sentence that had been hanging constantly over my head was repealed and was no more. And right away, as a direct result of my great excitement, I felt the need for action, for movement. Staying in one place had been part of the hiding . Now I had to move, to leave, to go on, ever onward, anywhere I wanted, to explore urgently the dream made real. It was like emerging from a hole after an earthquake, like leaving the ark after the flood. Who was left? What had happened to the rest? The whole point of liberation was to discover that your loved ones had been spared. How else did I imagine what liberation would be like when it came, if not that every member of our family should be reunited, and that we should return to our old home? Failing that, the miracle would be flawed. We must meet, sit down together, and talk and talk and talk. It was a necessary part of the anticipated reunion at the end of it all that we exchange accounts of our experiences. Listen to my story, hear what happened to me. This last pleasure of liberation was in many respects denied me. Perhaps this is why these pages were born now, so many years later. One hundred and fifty days had passed between my departure from Mother and the day of liberation. One hundred and fifty days of hiding, leading to my rebirth. But after liberation, why shouldn’t she come, why shouldn’t I meet her immediately? Mother never appeared, and something lay shriveled inside me for many years, refusing to give up waiting for her to come and reclaim me. Shortly after I met the young Jewish couple, I found myself in an office, sitting across from a man who first listened intently to my story, then immedi- 192 Chapter 12 ately rattled off to me—and although I was only a child of eleven years and two months, I could sense his smug, businesslike self-satisfaction—the deeds and achievements of the newly founded Jewish committee that was helping refugees return to the city: a soup kitchen serving free food, a clothes warehouse for basic gear, a list of abandoned apartments for a place to stay. Before long they intended to open a dormitory, and perhaps even a school, if they found enough surviving children. Volunteers were at hand throughout the city and region, and such children were already being discovered. He recited these accomplishments with sparkling eyes, but all I wanted was something to eat and a place to sleep and sleep some more. I went to sleep in a flat that had belonged to the families of German officers, together with other people to whom I had been assigned. The former dwellers had obviously abandoned the flat in haste, leaving much behind. The next morning I went straight to old Julija, hoping for some kind of continuity to bind together the drastic changes I had undergone. I found her at home, embroidering, happy to see me. She told me of the hard times the city had gone through, days of bombings and battles. Now, thank God, it was all over. She had been an eyewitness to the ghetto’s destruction, and told me how it had been wrapped for days in flames, occasionally emitting loud explosions. It was said that not a single house was whole anymore, and not a single Jew remained . Peckyte had visited her a few days before it happened and had taken some clothes for me. Julija had hidden the rest of my possessions—my books and stamps—just as I had left them. She suggested that I stay with her until my situation cleared up. I didn’t feel I had the strength to stay there. She said nothing about her son. She knew nothing about my sister, not having seen the family of Martha for several weeks. Perhaps the blond woman would know more about her, and about my mother as well, but they had moved to a new flat in the center of the town after the liberation. I got their address and went there immediately. I found them in a nice flat on the slope of Green Hill, which faces the city center. They had evidently received their place from the authorities, perhaps because...