To Life by Ruth Minsky Sender

Author:Ruth Minsky Sender
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon Pulse

twenty-one

FROM THE MANY barracks in the camp, people I have never met come to see the new baby. They bring small gifts, love, good wishes. They lend a hand. I am grateful for their presence, for their attention. I look at their faces filled with enchantment and tenderness as they touch the baby, and marvel at those emotions that survived horror, death, degradation. I see the agony in the eyes of those who lost children in the Nazi gas chambers. I think of the pain, the emptiness they must live with, and I cry. I hope they will find the strength to build a new life.

Moniek’s world revolves around his little family. He pampers me. He washes the baby’s diapers and irons them so they will be soft and smooth. He sits at the side of the cot as I nurse the baby, studies in amazement the miracle of our lives, our baby. I wonder how such a tiny baby can bring so much sunshine into our pain-filled hearts. If only we had family to share our joy with. . . .

I think of the letter I wrote to my sister Chana. I told her that I am a mother. That her first letter arrived as I was in labor, as a new life was beginning. I told her how eagerly I am awaiting the day that will reunite us again, the day she will hold my baby in her arms. I have so much I want to say, but I cannot put it into words. Will I ever be capable of talking about these years? The survivors of the concentration camps seldom speak about their experiences. It is easier to keep silent.

Then Chana and Moishe receive permission to transfer to Pocking, and before I know it Chana and I are locked in an embrace. We whisper each other’s name, hold on tight, afraid to let go. Am I dreaming? Is she really here? Will she be gone again if I let her out of my arms?

Through tear-filled eyes we study each other’s face again and again. I wondered so often if I would recognize her. It has been seven years. Still, she looks like the sister I remember, only older, with serious eyes. Her hands move softly over my face. “My little sister, my little sister. I thought this day would never come.”

Holding hands, we walk toward the baby’s cradle. A smile lights up her face. She takes the baby in her arms, kisses his head gently. Tears flow over her cheeks. Holding the baby on one arm, she puts her other arm around me, hugging me close. “I left you a child. I find you a mother of a beautiful son. If only all of us had lived to see this day.”

“Have you heard from Mala and Yankl?” I ask anxiously.

She puts the baby gently back into the cradle, straightens his blanket slowly, sits down on the cot. I sit down next to her, my eyes glued to her face.

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