My life began in
It’s the fall of
1944, and we are in a transit camp. Here, men are separated from women and
children. Mother sends me to the men’s side to give Father something. The
German guard waves me through. Once, twice, the third time, the guard yells at
me, “If you go again, I will not let you return to your mother!” I am
terrified. I run and huddle next to my mother, afraid to move.
A few weeks later
we are sheltered by a Polish farm family. Everyone has to chip in to help with
the chores – even I, the four-year-old. My job is to watch the one cow they
own. I am given a big stick and told not to let her go into the wheat field.
She is humongous. Soon she starts walking towards the field and I run after
her, hitting her as hard as I can. Of course, the more I hit her the further
she goes into the field. I run sobbing into the farmhouse, devastated,
helpless.
Other memories
from my early years consist of unrelated scenes and sounds: mobs…shouts…locomotive
whistling…steam engine hissing…people pushing, trying to get onto the train…a
garden…trees…a white rabbit in a cage…bullets flying through the
window…crouching on the floor…running to the basement…bombs exploding…a soldier
standing outside the open door of our house, a rifle in his hand.
Now, having turned
80 last March, I am living again under another evil: COVID-19. The
circumstances are very different, but many of the same scenes and situations
evoke similar feelings of anxiety and helplessness. The virus does not
discriminate based on race, religion, age, or your ability to work. It is not
contained in one part of the world. All humans, no matter where they live on
this planet, are confronted with the same life-threatening virus. People lock
themselves in their homes, wary of any contact with strangers and even family.
We communicate via Zoom, smart phones, and telephone. We carefully plan all
errands for fear of coming in contact with people and being infected. Radio and
television news reports are so disturbing that we try to minimize being exposed
to it. New recommendations are reported every day, some so contradictory that
we do not know whom or what to believe.
Then we have the
unending riots, burnings, lootings, shootings, fights in the streets with one
group blaming the other. We see people out of control, breaking into stores,
breaking windows, smashing shelves and displays and not caring whom they injure
or kill. It reminds me of the German soldiers who were beating and humiliating
old men, shattering Jewish shop windows, and burning synagogues. Like then,
authorities post one order after another, many making no logical sense. They
appear power hungry, wanting to show how much clout they have. People are
standing in lines, reminiscent of the war years, waiting to receive food
packages or to be tested for the virus.
These images sear
into my inner soul, reminding me of the senseless brutality I witnessed during
those horrible years I lived through as a child – the feeling of helplessness,
of uncertainty about the future. What will the future be like? When will all
this stop? Will life revert to being normal? And if not, what will the new
normal look like?
After liberation,
life did not return to normal. Most survivors had to rebuild families,
livelihoods, move to foreign countries, learn new languages, and adapt to new
cultures. It took years for life to become normal – the new normal.
How long will it
take to adapt to this new way of life? Are we to wear masks and avoid people
for months, if not years? Child survivors of the Holocaust live with many
psychological and emotional issues that follow them throughout their lives.
Many missed years of education and had to work hard to catch up to their
non-survivor friends.
Now, how will
COVID-19 influence my great-grandchildren? The oldest is eight, her cousin
seven; both need to be in school. How will their education be impacted? Our
next three are younger, one, four, and five. They cannot have the necessary
social interactions with their peers to grow up as responsible members of
society. How will that situation affect their development? The two youngest are
infants; their lives are not affected by the current living conditions right
now. But what will their normal be like?
Life is of course much, much better under
COVID-19 than it was then. We have a beautiful apartment, food gets delivered,
there are no armed soldiers parading in the streets. I know, the situation now
is by far less threatening or dangerous than it was during the war. Being a
senior, I have a better comprehension of the situation. As a child I did not
fully understand the danger we were in, whereas now I am aware of my feelings
of helplessness, foreboding, and insecurity. As much as I tell myself how good
my situation is today, how the comparisons with the Holocaust are totally
unwarranted, I cannot help feeling that my life is ensnared between those two
evils.
