It is Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement. My mind goes back to Friday, September 23, 1949, when I arrived in New York, (U.S.A.), from Munich, Germany. I stayed in New York until after the Jewish holidays, when my Social Worker prepared me for the train journey to Detroit, Michigan.

Because I was unable to speak English, I was pinned with an identification tag. People on the train looked at the tag and began speaking in sign language to me, and fortunately we understood one another! I arrived in Detroit early in the morning and was met by another Social Worker, who had been sent a picture of me, so she could recognize me.

Since I had been born on August 20, 1933, I was 16 years of age at the beginning of my life in Detroit. I found myself going to school with children in a situation similar to mine: they also did not know a word of English. This class was called "The Americanization Class." The teacher was the most loving person I had ever met. I had no problem understanding her, for she communicated with a heart full of love. With this rare ability, she taught the English language to us. It didn't take long before I learned English well enough to be placed in the ninth grade, with all the other American children. I began dressing like them, and for the first time started living as a normal child.

Now with the Lord's help, I shall try to explain how all these circumstances came about. I was born in Poland into a Jewish Orthodox home, the youngest of six children. We were four girls and two boys: Frieda, Ann, Genis, Pola (which is my name), and our brothers Joseph and David. My father went to the synagogue on Friday evenings and Saturdays and also said his daily prayers at home. He and his many brothers were excellent tailors, and in this way earned their living.

Since I, Pola, was the youngest, no doubt I was spoiled, for I remember crying a lot if I didn't get my own way. However, my father did use his belt on me, but it didn't help, for I continued crying into the night. Nevertheless, I loved my father very much. He would have my brother Joseph and me sit down with him and repeat after him our daily prayers.

"The dead will come back to life again"

On Saturday afternoons, my father would take us for a walk. Because Saturday was the Sabbath, he always dressed in his best black coat and hat. His long beard added to his striking appearance. We also dressed in our best clothes. One particular walk he took us on was around a cemetery, and he made this statement, which I've never forgotten: "You see these graves? When the Messiah shall come - the trumpet will blow, and the dead will come to life again." Though I was only a little girl, about three years old, my father's words fascinated me. With the faith of a child, it was as if I could actually see this taking place, right then and there!

We lived in a small village, surrounded by others like it, somewhat like the suburbs we have here. As one entered the village, the first thing that came into view was a big house, comparable to a co-op. This house belonged to my uncles and to us. My grandparents and great grandparents lived there. More people lived in the house in the summertime, for beautiful trees and mountains surrounded it, and some of the family from the city came there to rest.

One night I was awakened by everyone in the family yelling, "Fire! Fire! Let's get out!"

Someone had set fire to our chicken coops. Apparently, this was not the first of such incidents. Our Polish neighbors wanted us out of there, for we were supposed to be the "Christ killers!" I never really could understand this accusation. Quite often, when any of our family took a walk, children who claimed we had "killed Jesus" threw stones at us. I often asked my father why they did this, but I don't remember his reply. However, it must have become too dangerous to live there, for my father moved the family to the city, which was named Siedlce. Insofar as I can remember, we had no such problems there.

Thus far, I've told about my father, but nothing about my mother. My memory is of my three sisters raising me. I was told that mother got sick after having her fifth child, and was no longer able to take care of her family. My older brother, Joseph, whom I loved deeply, played with me all the time. I remember how good-looking he was, for he resembled our mother, who was beautiful. I can still see her black hair and light complexion, but most of all - her lovely hands. My oldest sister also looked like mother, while my other two sisters and my brother David looked more like father. We were a close-knit family. My cousins were like brothers and sisters to us.

One day, while I was alone, I heard sirens. Suddenly, a bomb fell on one corner of the house! I was thrown up to the ceiling and back down again! This must have been the first day Germany invaded Poland.

After everything quieted down, the family came home. They'd had to take refuge in the bomb shelters. When they saw what happened to our house, for reasons of safety, we moved to my aunt's house, just outside the city. When the bombs came down, we had to run to the forest and get under cover.

My brother and my cousins and I had lots of fun after things quieted down. We liked looking into the deep holes the bombs had made. But this fun didn't last very long, for we did eventually move back to our family home. After we got back to our house, thankfully our so-called "good neighbors no longer bothered us," but it took no time at all before we were greatly bothered by the German soldiers!

I clearly recall the first incident. Two German soldiers brought my brother David home. They pinned him into a corner of the house and began beating him. Finally, they left. After that, we were all required to wear bands with a yellow Star of David on our arms, so that everyone would know we were Jews. After they tagged us like this, they ordered us to move back to the city. Then the Germans divided the city by putting barbed wire around one section and all the Jews were moved into it.

Of course, we had no house in this section. Consequently, we had no choice but to move in with an aunt and her large family, all of us in a one-room apartment! While I can't remember the exact size of the room, the living conditions were not very comfortable, with that many people in it. On one side of the room were three sections of beds, one on top of another. My aunt was in her single bed and all the rest were on the floor. In the middle of the room was a table. On the other side of the table was the kitchen, with a small pot of something cooking on the stove, and an area for a few groceries.

The machine guns opened fire

Once we were enclosed behind barbed wired in this section of the city, in this "Ghetto", the only ones allowed to leave were Gentile Poles, or young men able to work, or for certain other reasons. One of the "other reasons" was when one of my cousins was taken to jail without just cause. My aunt had me take some food to her son in jail because I looked like a Gentile Pole. My hair was white as snow and I spoke perfect Polish. It felt so good walking down there as a Gentile Pole, unafraid of being recognized, I was able to take the food to my cousin without any trouble. He told me to tell his parents that he'd be home the following day, but he never got to see that day. That very night the Germans told all the Jewish young men in his cell that they were being taken in a truck to a working camp. As they were being driven, the truck stopped and they were told to get out. Then the machine guns opened fire ... one might ask how I knew all this. I was sent back with more food after my cousin did not come home, but he was not in the jail. When I asked one of the guards what had happened, he told me the story. I quickly went home and told my family.

After that incident, my aunt seemed to be in bed a lot. She often asked me if I had eaten, and everyone in the room did the same. There was so little food - they gave their food to me, because I was the youngest. My aunt was dying of hunger. When I went to her bed one morning, she opened her eyes, smiled, and asked me if I had eaten. Then she closed her eyes for the last time. The family had to take her body out, for she was dead.

After that, my sister Ann, the second oldest, became very sick with typhoid fever. In her delirium, she took a knife and tried to stab me, but everyone in the room grabbed her and tied her to the bed. She accused me of eating up all the food. Thankfully, she did recover, but she had no remembrance whatsoever of the incident.

Because food was so scarce, my three remaining brothers and two sisters left the house one by one, and managed to escape from behind the barbed wire. Frieda, my oldest sister, was the only one who was married. She and her husband lived in the infamous Warsaw Ghetto, where they and so many others ended up in the gas chambers, or in the fire, when at the end the Germans set the Warsaw Ghetto up in flames, with all the remaining Jews still inside.

After the others escaped, my mother and I were left alone with my cousins. One day, when I went out to play, I happened to see an opening in the barbed wire, so I went across. As I did that, my mother came out screaming, "Come back! Come back! Come back!"

All of a sudden I saw Germans running and shooting and I started to run away! But when my mother tried to stop me from running, she was shot dead between the barbed wire. The Gestapo did not even see me. They saw only my mother, when she was screaming for me. Now that I'm a mother myself, I know I would have done the same thing. Only a mother knows a mother's heart.

Seeing what had happened, I ran into the forest (Poland has many forests), and there I ran into my father and my brother Joseph. I told them what had taken place. They took me to where they were hiding out with other Jews.

Even so, after awhile we all had to split up. The Gentile Polish family was afraid to keep us any longer and told us to leave. We had no choice but to go. They would have suffered greatly and probably been killed had they been caught hiding us. Everyone went in different directions. Father told us, "Let the five of us, Joseph, Ann, Genis, Pola, and I stay together, and we will go to the village where this widow woman lives alone with her children. I am sure God has prepared this other Gentile Polish family to help us. I left some things with her for safekeeping. I will let her keep it as payment for all I hope she will do for us."

We went there and father was right, she did take us in. She also had living with her a Russian soldier that had parachuted into Poland. He too was hiding from the Germans, but the villagers let him alone for he was a great help to the widow woman, and he became a help to us in many ways. When the widow became fearful of keeping us, for her life was greatly endangered, the Russian was the one who comforted her. He also made sure she cooked enough food for all of us, and then he'd bring it to us in the barn where we were hiding. Sometimes he was the lookout man, so we could come into the house and eat. This was a real treat to us.

One day while we were in the house, somehow the villagers found out we were there and came after us with destructive weapons, like clubs and potato choppers that were used to chop potatoes for the pigs! These same villagers were at one time supposedly my father's best friends, yet they turned on us as quickly and as easily as if they had been our lifelong enemies. Among the things father had left with the widow woman was his sewing machine. Before the villagers had a chance to get into the house, father said to us, "Quickly, hide behind the large stove!"

Then the children of the Gentile Polish family hiding us got on the bed and started jumping up and down on it and singing, while my father sat behind his sewing machine and began to sew. He was trying to make it look as if he were the only other one there, in order to try to save us. The villagers came in, full force, demanding to know where my father's children were. The brave children jumping on the bed told them we were not there. The villagers grabbed my father and savagely started beating him with the clubs and chopping him with the potato chopper! When I saw this, I opened my mouth to scream, but my brother and my sisters held my mouth so I couldn't let out a sound. Father moaned in agony, but somehow he prevented himself from crying out. Finally, they stopped beating him, gave him up for dead and left. But I refused to believe he was not alive. I tried hard to listen, hoping I could still hear him breathing.

At last we were able to come out from behind the stove and rushed over to father. He was full of holes and bleeding all over, but thank God he was still alive! The widow woman helped us all out of the house to the barn, where we managed to put father on the hay. Then she got some iodine and tended to father's wounds. However, after she took care of him, she said to him, "When you are well enough, I want you to take Joseph and Pola out of here. As you can see, it is not safe for all of you to stay in one place. But I will help your two daughters, Ann and Genis, to make out some working papers for Germany. I am sure they will be able to pass as Gentile Polish girls, for they are light complexioned. The German government is taking Polish girls to Germany to work in different places of employment."

When my father was well enough to walk, he took my brother Joseph and me away from the widow woman's house. The three of us moved only by night and hid in barn lofts. These lofts were so dark and frightening that I wished myself to be a cow, or a horse, or a bird, anything except a human being. I felt that if I were an animal I would be able to see the daylight and not be afraid. As soon as it became dark enough, so we couldn't be seen, we moved from place to place. Oh, how I longed to lie down on a nice, soft bed and go to sleep, but the only bed I knew was hay, which was at least warm.

A bed of hay

One day, as we were hiding in a barn, and father was praying on one side of the barn, I became very tired and wanted so badly to go to sleep, but could not see a place where I might lie down. It was during the winter months and terribly cold. I happened to look across to the opposite side from where my father was praying and there it was - my warm bed of hay! I ran to it and, without telling my father where I was, dug myself into the hay and immediately fell asleep.

I remember my brother Joseph, out of breath, waking me up and saying, "I just came back to see if you were alive. Father had said to me that it was no use, that you were dead, but I refused to listen to him and had to see for myself. You see, the Germans somehow spotted us and started shooting and beating on the door. We had no time to wake you, but had to run. After we were a distance away, I decided to come after you. Come, let's go to father. I'm sure when he sees you - he will look at you as if you are a ghost!"

After what Joseph said, I knew I had to get out of there quickly and be reunited with father. When we got there, Joseph said to him, "See, father, I was right, she IS alive!" Father was the one who looked like a ghost, for he was very pale as he hugged me and cried, "Thank God you are alive!"

I was very hungry and asked him if I could have something to eat. Father answered, "Let's go to our old neighbors, surely they will give us some food."

These neighbors that my father had grown up with told us to go into the barn, where they would bring us some hot food. But instead of food, these so-called "good neighbors" brought clubs and other weapons, with the intention of killing us! When father spotted them, he told us to run after him! We ran and ran! I, being so little, was the last one, but they did not catch up with us. When we stopped running, we forgot about the hunger and found a place to sleep in some other deserted barn.

We had to move on in order to try to find some food. My trusting father said, "I know a family that will help us. They need me to do some sewing for the family. Let's go there." So that is where we went and they did accept us, giving us some hot food to eat, and father did some sewing for them.

We were there for a week when a group of father's "friends" came in and took my father and brother away. I was just sitting there with everyone else in the room, not saying a word. However, just as soon as my father and brother were taken out - I had a strong feeling I should get out of there quickly! I ran into the barn right by the house and dug myself into the hay. Just as soon as I did this, the people of the house became hostile and started screaming, "Where is she? We have to get her over there with her father and brother. Let them all be killed together!"

This was the first time I remember feeling truly scared, thinking, "What am I going to do without my father and brother? Where can I go alone?" I escaped such further frightening thoughts by falling asleep.

I was awakened by someone calling my name. The voice sounded like Joseph's. Miraculously, it was indeed Joseph, bleeding all over, but still alive, and saying to me, "We must leave at once. We cannot stay here."

"But we must wait for father," I insisted.

Joseph hung his head sadly as he said, "Father is dead."

"No, no," I argued. "You are here and I thought you too were dead. So let's wait awhile, maybe father will come for us."

Joseph exhausted and bleeding from his severe wounds was almost glad to stop for a rest. We waited and waited. Suddenly we heard something. It was father! To me, he looked like a skeleton, a dead man come to life again. Perhaps the trumpet had blown and he was raised from the dead, to come back and take us away to safety. In these horrible times - could not such wonders also happen?

"I'm go to lie down in the snow and go to sleep"

The three of us walked away from there, into the bitter cold. The snow was so deep in the fields that it came past my knees. Once again I was getting tired and sleepy and said to Joseph, "I'm going to lie down in the snow and go to sleep."

The snow felt nice and soft and warm, but Joseph cried out, "No! Come on, you'll die if you fall asleep!" And he dragged me out of the snow.

But I could hear father ahead of us shouting at Joseph, "Let her stay! Let her stay!"

But Joseph refused to leave me. "No! She's coming with us!" As he pulled me, tears were streaming down his face.

When we got to a safe place, I don't remember where, it was not so cold anymore, even though there were large patches of snow on the ground here and there. This must have been near to spring in 1943. Father had cut off his beard so he would look less conspicuously like a Jew. Nevertheless, in spite of near starvation, he still refused to eat anything out of the pots of Gentiles, because it was against the Jewish religion. He lived on bread and water, and fruit, when we could find any. However, he told us to eat everything, even pork, that it would not be sinful for us, since we were only children.

One day Father heard that in one village a family was hiding out a Jew and were found out by the Germans. The German government had posters hanging all over Poland, ordering the people not to hide Jews. If they were found hiding even one Jew - all of the villagers would be taken to working camps, the children would be taken away from their parents, and the entire village would be burned to the ground. This is exactly what happened to one of the villages and father somehow heard about it. He also heard that as the children were being transported somewhere by train, some of them managed to escape. When Poland was alerted about it, the Polish government issued a statement saying:

"If any children show up in the villages, families are to take them in and keep them until after the war.  Maybe some of the parents will live through the war and reclaim their children."

It was becoming impossible for us to go on. Father called Joseph and me to tell us of the situation we were in. He said to me, "Pesia (he called me by my Jewish name), you look like a Polish Gentile. Your hair is white as snow and you speak like any Polish girl. All over Poland it is known about the escaped children. You are going to have a Polish name instead of your own name, Pesia Atramentowicz. Your name will be Apolonia (Pola) Siurek. You'll tell them you had one brother, Joseph, and no sisters or other brothers. That way you will not have to remember any new names, which would have to be Polish. And most of all, Pray to Jesus, and they will believe you are a Polish Gentile. After the war, go to the United States - to Detroit - and your aunt will take you in."

I can remember my brother Joseph crying and saying, "No, father! She can't be left alone - I will take care of her." I cried, telling father I wanted to die with them and not alone. But father said nothing after that.

One morning I awakened to find myself all alone, but then a strange thing happened. I had always had a fear of being left alone, from as far back as I can remember. Yet that morning I was not alone. There was a Presence with me, one that is difficult to explain. I called it "My Guardian Angels." I had no fear whatsoever. I was surrounded by an invisible army.

Then I remembered father also saying, "Maybe your sisters will be able to help you."

Therefore, I thought, "I will go to the place where they are hiding." But I did not know east from west. I needn't have worried, my invisible "Guide" showed me the way. When I knocked at the door, the widow woman opened it and greeted me. I asked her to have my sisters come out, but she said they were not there. I knew better, for my invisible Guide told me differently. I said to the widow woman, "I know they are here." Finally, my sister Ann came out.

I told Ann that father had left me and had told me what I was to do, and perhaps they could help me. My other sister never came out, but I knew she was there. After Ann cleaned me up from all the lice I had collected on the way, she told me to do as father had instructed me. Then she told me to leave. I left, but I said to myself, "I never want to see my sisters again!"

They were afraid of me. If the Germans captured me and tortured me, to find out where they were, I might have given them away. If I did not know where they were - at least they were safer. (Again, no one knows what war can do to a person.) Father did say that I was to walk as far as I could to where people did not know us. So I left my sisters and began walking. As I walked, a couple in a horse and buggy drove by me. They stopped and I heard the woman say, "Is not this girl the daughter of Atramentowicz?" But I continued walking.

Hunger was overcoming me, so I decided to stop when I reached the next village. When I reached the village, I knocked at the door of a house. To the woman who answered I said, "I'm a Jewish girl. My father left me and I'm all alone. Will you please give a piece of bread?" The woman told me to wait, that she'd be right back. But the Voice told me to run, so I ran!

I ran to a haystack, got on top and dug myself into it. No sooner had I managed to do this than the woman brought the Germans with her. The Germans demanded, "Well, where is she?"

The woman answered, "She couldn't have disappeared into thin air!"

Then I heard the Germans say, "We will push our bayonets into the haystack and see if she is hiding in there!"

I thought, "This is the end of me!"

The bayonets kept coming closer and closer. One of them was coming straight at my heart and was just a hair away, when I heard one of them say, "She is not here, you stupid woman!" And the bayonet was pulled out!

Following my "guide"

I lay there for awhile, trying to catch my breath. Then I decided to dig myself out of there. I stuck my head out and lo and behold, it had become so foggy I couldn't see in any direction. I clearly remembered that when I crawled up in the haystack the sky was clear and the sun was out, but not now. This turn of the weather made me unafraid to move out of there, for I would be under cover of the fog. Not knowing which way to go, I followed my Guide's direction and walked on.

Finally, I was nearing another village. This time I thought that I'd better remember what my father had told me to say. As I approached the village, I saw children playing with snowballs. I hadn't played with other kids in such a long time, I decided to run up there! However, before I had a chance to take one step, something physically pushed me to the left, which was the first house of the village. I had no choice but to obey!

I walked into the yard and knocked at the door. A woman answered. Having learned my lesson well from the haystack incident, I remembered to say everything the way my father had told me. There was much explaining I did not have to do, for she had heard about some of the children running away from the train. She told me to come in and called her husband and two of her sons, who were at home. I found out they had two other sons living away from home. The two living at home were farmers; another was an accountant, a widower with a daughter living in Warsaw; and the fourth was a veterinarian, who was married and had a little boy. The woman and her husband had no daughters. They were the wealthiest people in that town and all the villagers worked for them.

After the woman had introduced me to her two sons, the older son said, "We'd better take her over to the sheriff's office and register her." Off we went, with the villagers following us there. It seems that in a small village everyone knows what is going on everywhere else.

The whole village wanted to keep me! The sheriff's wife had never been able to have children, so the sheriff and his wife wanted to keep me for their own. Nevertheless, I was wishing someone would ask me where I wanted to go. Immediately, the sheriff said, "Let's ask the girl where she would like to go!"

I already knew where I was to go and said, "The first house to the left." Who can say that God does not prepare a table in the presence of the enemy? (Ps.23:5) The couple was old enough to be my grandparents. Perhaps that's why on the way from the sheriff's office they told me to call them Grandma and Grandpa. When we arrived home, Grandma said, "This child must be hungry." She cooked some soup and gave it to me. I took one spoon of it, and as soon as I swallowed it my stomach began to hurt. I literally crawled on the floor, because the pain was so bad. Grandma could not have known that my insides had shrunk from my not having eaten in such a long time! When she realized the situation, she massaged my stomach and gave me only tiny bits at a time. Grandma did this for quite a few weeks, until she brought me back to normal again.

Then they enrolled me in school and catechism. This was my very first time in school, yet I was already ten years of age! The school was not in this village, but now that I was stronger - I was able to walk with the other children to the village where the school was. After school, I had chores to do: milk the cows, feed the chickens, and gather the eggs. Since some of my duties included watching over the cows and other animals, I became a real cowgirl. I could even ride a horse bareback to round up the cattle! At harvest time, I had to be an example for the other workers, meaning I had to be the fastest, and I was proud to be such an example. I loved the open spaces, the fresh air, the green grass, the flowers and everything growing in the fields. It was as if I'd been some kind of animal that had been locked up for years in a cage, ready for slaughter, but someone had mercy on it and set it free! After we had finished the catechism studies, the priest brought a basket filled with little cards having pictures of the saints on them. The priest said, "Now close your eyes and put your hands in the basket. Whatever picture you take will be your patron saint." Then I remembered that father had said to me, "Pray to Jesus and they will believe you are Catholic."

I thought, "If I pick the picture of Jesus then I can pray to Him, like father said; but if I pick a saint then I will have to pray to that saint instead." God must have heard my thoughts for He granted my heart's desire! When I put my hand in the basket and picked a card - it was the picture of Jesus with the Bleeding Heart! As I looked at it, these words were impressed in my mind, "Do not be afraid. I have gone through the same thing you are going through. I am a Jew. I have overcome the world and so will you." Yet it seemed as if the only thing I heard was the part about, "I am a Jew." As far as I was concerned, there were no more Jews in the world and I was the only Jew left alive! Often I was full of fear because of this thought, but now I had another Jew, someone to talk to and not just to pray to. It's impossible for me to describe what kind of joy came into my being through this wonderful knowledge! I remember wanting to go to church more often, as if the church were my home. I loved to take Communion. As I partook of the wafers, I actually ate of His Flesh, and with the wine I drank of His Precious Blood. And yet He was so much alive and not dead! I never questioned His being alive. To me He was the other Jew! He filled me with such love for Him that I felt I was being carried in an abundance of love.

He was a Jew like me!

By now, you are acquainted with my using various phrases, such as, "the Guide," and "the Voice," and "the Invisible Presence." When I looked at the picture, I heard the very same Voice of my Guide and my Guardian Angel, and I felt the same loving presence. And yet He was a Jew like me!

The Holy Bible, the Word of God, declares:

"You shall know the Truth and the Truth shall make you free!"  (John 8:32)
(Thank God I am free! Free from man's number one enemy, Satan, the enemy of the all-knowing God!)

"For what person knows a man's thoughts except the spirit of the man which is in him?"
(1 Corinthians 2:11);

"The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked; who can know it? I the Lord search the mind and try the heart, to give to every man according to his ways, according to the fruit of his doings." (Jeremiah 17:9-10);

"No one is good but God alone." (Luke 18:19b)
(I have combined various translations of The Holy Bible here.)

Living with a family again and having a roof over my head was a new experience, especially the great change from a strict Orthodox Jewish home to a Roman Catholic home! However, it did not take me long to adjust after what I had been through. No more hiding from place to place trying to escape the hunters, for not only did we have to hide from the Germans, but from the Gentile Poles as well. The Polish hunters received five pounds of sugar for every Jew they turned in. Ferocious wild animals would have been welcomed compared to these vicious human beings!

One evening, as we all sat at dinner, the sons told me what they thought was an exciting story. They were laughing hilariously about it. "Just before you came here, Pola, a Jew came to our village for protection. We gave him protection all right! We tied him to a haystack when the weather was freezing and left him there overnight. Can you guess what happened to him?" They laughed and laughed, and I laughed with them.

They all loved me. Once again I had a family, and they were glad there was a girl in the house. I liked the three older sons, but I certainly did not care for the younger one. He must have been around sixteen or seventeen. When we sat down to eat at the table, each of us had our own silverware, but we didn't have individual plates. Grandma would put one giant bowl, with potatoes, pork and gravy, in the middle of the table, then everyone would dig in. I'd always get sick to my stomach, not because of the food, or because we all ate from the same bowl, but because Stefan had a running nose.

I'd scream, "Grandma! Have Stefan wipe his nose!" But no sooner had he done it - then it started running again. I was losing weight and getting sicker by the day, but they couldn't understand why. Finally, they took me to a doctor. He told Grandma to put me on a special diet. After that, my sickness left me, for I had my own plate!

The Christmas season was very exciting. We did not have store-bought ornaments, such as we have here. We had to make our own. All of us girls would get together in each other's homes to make all kinds of decorations for our Christmas trees. We also made cookies, cutting them into different shapes and sizes, and hung them on the trees. During our festive preparations, we sang beautiful Christmas carols.

When Christmas Eve arrived, all of us went to the church to look at the Baby Jesus. Although eventually I discovered it was only a doll, I had first believed the doll was actually real. It was wonderful to come home from church and eat at midnight. In the morning, we rode in sleds, as the music of the bells attached to the horses rang out! It was all breathtaking for me! I loved to be in church. At that time I was not a Jew. The thought of being a Jew was completely gone from my mind.

One morning, when I awakened, Grandma said to me, "Pola, last night you must have had a nightmare. You screamed and talked in a language that was hard for me to understand."

Somehow I had the presence of mind to say to her, "You know when someone talks in his sleep it is really impossible to understand him."

She responded, with some relief, "So that's why I couldn't understand what you were saying."

"Pray to Jesus and they will believe you are Catholic"

Nonetheless, I knew full well the language in which I had spoken must have been Jewish! After that, I was afraid to go to sleep for fear I might have another nightmare like that and the next time she would find me out! I didn't know what to do. As I lay awake, trying very hard not to fall asleep, I remembered at last what my father had told me: "Pray to Jesus and they will believe you are Catholic."

Therefore, I prayed, "Please, Jesus, make me forget this night the Jewish language, so that when I awake in the morning I will not even remember how to say, 'No' or 'yes' in Jewish. Please, Jesus, for father told me to pray to you." I fell asleep immediately and slept peacefully, after many nights of not being able to sleep. Even so, I still dreamed a lot, for I seemed to relive everything when I slept.

When I awakened the following morning, I was fully aware of the request I had made to Jesus before I had trusted myself to go to sleep. I tried to recall how to say "yes" and "no" in Jewish, but I was unable to do so! I could have jumped to the ceiling from the bed out of pure joy! I screamed, "Jesus! Jesus! You did it! You did it!"

Grandma rushed into the room! She had absolutely no inkling of what was going on. She asked me, "What is happening?"

How glad I was to tell her, "I am happy because last night I prayed to Jesus that I would have no more nightmares - and I didn't! And I had the best night's sleep since I came here!" Grandma was happy with me.

The winter months were exciting, especially in the evening, for the evenings were long. Before it became dark, I cleaned out the kerosene lamps, for the villages had no electricity. The ladies and their daughters would get together in each other's homes with their spinning wheels and spin out the yarn, and then weave the yarn into material. They taught me how to do this and I was getting very good at it. Another thing we would do was to chop cabbage and put it into barrels to make sauerkraut.

When daylight came, Grandma would bring in some fresh water, for the villages had no running water either. Then the boys and Grandma and I would milk the cows. Grandpa was the lazy type. He was always cold, so he sat by the wood burning stove, where the wood burned all night and day to heat the house, and where the cooking was done. This was the only heating unit in the entire house. After the cows were milked, we had to feed them. We also had to feed the pigs, the sheep, the goats, the rabbits, the horses, and the chickens. Only after the animals were fed did the rest of us sit down to eat. Our breakfast in the village was heavy, a farmer's breakfast, consisting of things we eat for supper in this country. After breakfast, I went off to school with a group of other children, all of us trudging through the deep snow.

I had a girlfriend who was especially nice to me. Her name was Angie. Angie was a little older than I, and very protective of me. She was the child of an unwed mother. The mother hardly made ends meet. Since I lived with a family that hired the villagers in that town to work in their fields, I was able to help Angie and her mother get a job working in the fields. They were paid with everything that grew in the fields. Angie and I ate together at lunchtime.

Angie's mother had a hobby telling peoples' fortunes through cards. Some of the things she told people were quite memorable. For instance, one day three men of the village came to her to have their fortunes told. She looked at the cards and told the men, "Tomorrow morning the three of you will be dead!" They walked out, laughing loudly at her. I happened to be there that day and sure enough, in the morning all three men lay dead, just as she had said. I was so used to seeing dead people that I thought nothing of it, particularly after witnessing the following incident, which has never left my mind.

Two Russians had parachuted into our village and were found by the German soldiers. The Germans forced the Russians to dig their own graves deep enough for them to stand in. Then the Germans made the Russians jump in the graves and cover themselves with the same dirt to their armpits. Then the Germans shot the Russians in the head and threw the rest of the dirt over them. The German soldiers placed on top of the graves a marker made out of the dead men's scarves, which they had taken from the necks of the Russians. They took two sticks, stuck them in the graves, and then hung a bloody scarf on each of the sticks. The other children and I quietly watched as all this took place. I could just see myself being in that grave.

Now I must tell you why these two Russians were shot that morning. About two weeks before this took place, during some nights, while the villagers were in deep sleep, the underground movement came into the homes and helped themselves to food and clothing and anything else they needed. One morning I discovered my very best Sunday shoes and dress had been taken from the attic.

One of those nights, a flashlight shining in my face awakened me. I opened my eyes to see the face of my cousin! I started to say something to him, but he put his hand on my mouth and said, "Don't say a word right now. I will see you tomorrow. Look for me. I will be in disguise. I'll probably come when you are out in the pasture with the animals. I'll tell the others not to take anything else from this house, nor will we ever come here again for food."

Our house was never ransacked again

My cousin was true to his word; our home was never ransacked again. I was so excited about seeing him I could not go back to sleep, impatiently waiting for daylight to come so I could ride out to the fields, where the green pastures were. On that day they were greener than ever. (At that time I was a real cowgirl, riding those horses without a saddle! But you couldn't get me on a horse now, even with a saddle!) I looked anxiously down the road to see if anyone was coming. The hours were longer than ever. I could tell time to the minute by the way my shadow went with the sun. Finally he came! What a reunion! He asked me about everything and I told him all I could.

Then he asked me, "How do you like it here? If they don't treat you right - you can come with us and you will be safe. We have all kinds, including Poles, and Russians that have parachuted in. We are fighting this war. There are quite a few from this town that are working with us."

I asked him who they were, but he would not tell me. I told him I'd like to remain where I was, because the people were treating me very well. He said, "Shalom", and left.

After that, I did not see him again until the day the two Russians were shot. He came to see me in the late afternoon and asked me if I had seen or heard about three other men being shot.

I answered, "Yes, I saw those three men lying dead on the street this morning, when we were on our way to school."

Then he told me, "Those three men were part of us and we trusted each other. But they heard me say you were my cousin. I told them where you were staying, so I could instruct them not to come here for anything. They were found out just in time, for they were going to give you up to the Germans. THEREFORE, WE HAD TO TAKE CARE OF THEM THIS MORNING!"

Only then did I realize that those three men lying dead in the road were the three men whose cards Angie's mother had read, and whom she had told they would be dead the following day! What keeping power of God! Although I could not have known it at that time, I certainly know now that it was Jesus Christ, my Lord, who had watched over me and kept me through every danger and crisis those many years.

The winter was soon over and I looked forward to Easter. I loved helping prepare the baskets and color the eggs and neatly put them in the baskets. When Good Friday came, the priest came to the village and everyone came out with their baskets to be sprinkled with holy water. On Easter Sunday morning, we all went to church. I couldn't think of anyone being as devout a Catholic as I! I can't remember how long after we were confirmed that the other children and I went to church to be anointed with oil and given a saintly name by the priest. Since I loved the name of Saint Teresa - the priest named me Teresa.

Seeking to be a "perfect" Catholic

My Jewishness had left me to such a degree that I found myself thinking, "Why, I'm not really a true Catholic, for I'm not baptized!" This really bothered me. One day I decided that I had to confess this to the priest at my next confession. "He will keep it a secret and secretly baptize me, and then I will be a perfect Catholic," I thought.

Finally, one Sunday morning, I said to Angie, "Let's go to confession." Angie agreed, so off we went. Little did she know my true intentions.

We arrived at church early enough for confession. I saw the priest sitting in his booth listening to another confessor. I waited patiently for my turn. As I approached the window of the booth and was just about to begin talking, something made me look toward the main entrance. Lo and behold! I saw there one of my girlfriends with whom I used to play at home! When I recognized her, the fear of her identifying me gripped my heart and caused me to faint! I was awakened by Angie telling me that I had fainted just before confession. When she asked me what happened, I answered weakly, "I truly don't know. We'd better go home." And we did. That same Sunday Grandma went to mass. When she came home, she told us what the priest's main message had been. It went like this: "God was taking vengeance on the Jews for they had killed Jesus, and, therefore, it was God's will that the Jews should be killed!" How do you like that?! No one can ever tell me that the true and living Jesus - the Jew - was not with me! He is not dead, but alive! At that time I never questioned why they said He had been killed by the Jews, and yet He had identified Himself to me as One Who is alive and not dead. I was positive of that, and no one could have been as happy as I was to know that I would not be the only Jew left alive in this world! There was another, and He was Jesus Christ, the Jew!

After that incident, I never again wanted to be baptized. As far as I was concerned, I was a better Catholic than the ones who were sprinkled at infancy, for I knew a personal God of love and protection. I could not go to that priest for protection! Even though he was called "father" by everyone, he was not mv father. I had a better Father, a Father whom I could trust, and one who would never reveal my secrets to the enemy.

The church we attended was situated not too far from the villages where my original family was well known, and often the people who came to this church were unknown to me. After I became aware of this fact, I had no desire to go to that church again, even though it was the most beautiful one in the area and closest to me. My present family, "Grandma", "Grandpa", and the others, could not understand why I had become so set against going to this church, when it was much closer to home than the church I now chose to go to. I told them, "It's much more fun walking to the other one.

Besides, I like the priest better, for he is much nicer." Of course, Angie said the same thing, and she would be the first one of all the other boys and girls to agree with me. Before long - most of the children began going to the church I had chosen over the one closest to home.

Little did I know that Angie and her mother knew about my being a Jew, for they never let on. They were working with the underground movement, "The Resistance." This was told to me after the war through a letter I received in Germany from Angie. She also sent me my Communion dress, but I do not remember what I did with it. In addition, she sent the picture of my first Communion, taken with two other girls, which I still have.

One afternoon, on the way home from school, a woman passed by me. I recognized her and tried to hide my face, but she noticed me and said something to one of the kids, and then she left. I did not think much of it at the time, but a week later she happened to show up at the house. She was invited in by Grandma and given something to eat. Then she asked my name and Grandma told her about me. The woman said, "I come from Shmiary. A family lived there by the name of Atramentovicz, and they had a younger daughter whose name was Pesia. I tell you, Pola, you look just like her. When I saw you walking from school, I recognized you, thinking you were her, so I asked one of the girls where you lived."

I laughed and said, "It is possible she resembled me, but how many cows have you seen that look alike, and though they have the same spots, could you tell them apart?"

She too laughed and said, "That is true." Then she excused herself and left the house.

Grandma remarked, "What a nerve to come here thinking such a thing!"

I laughingly asked her, "What would you do if that were true?"

She replied, "I would do nothing, but the boys would do to you what they did to the Jew: they would tie you to the haystack to be frozen to death, or get five pounds of sugar as a reward for turning you over to the Germans."

It did not take long after this incident until some of the children started calling me "Jew!" It finally came to the point where Grandma called me in and said, "I think you will have to be sent away for a little while to live with my son, the veterinarian, and his family, until this quiets down. It is not right that you should go through such unfair persecution. After it has quieted down - you will come back." I was very happy at this suggestion, for the church I liked was right around the corner from her son's home.

After awhile, I did come back home and all was well. My friends were very happy to see me and called me no more names. Everything seemed to be going all right, or so I thought. Grandma told me that her older son, the accountant from Warsaw, was arriving with a friend of his for the weekend, and we had better clean up the house. When they arrived, we all had dinner together. The friend was left alone with me and began to ask me all kinds of questions. After the questioning was over, he called the family together, saying, "She is not Jewish. I can swear it."

Of course, they were relieved. But little did they know how relieved I was! After that, we were one happy family. So happy, in fact, that Grandma told me that Stefan, her younger son, was going to marry me, when I was old enough. That was all I had to hear - a lifetime with that snotty nose boy, with both of us eating from the same dish! To me this was worse than being found out! I remember always kneeling down by my bed, before going to sleep, and talking to my Jesus, the other Jew. That night I really poured my heart out. I cried and cried. I remember not wanting to live after that. Nevertheless, I got up from my knees and went to sleep peacefully. I awoke the next morning hardly thinking of what Grandma had said to me. I even began liking Stefan with his runny nose, and things got on very well. Then Stefan was drafted into the army. He wrote letters to the family and I was the one who answered them. The other son was always busy in the fields, but I liked him. He took very good care of me, just like an older brother would. Then he got married, and I didn't like him as well, because he seemed to like his wife better than he did me. His actions were beyond my understanding.

The fortuneteller

One day, some of the neighbors got together and came to the house, demanding that I be taken to the fortuneteller! When Grandma wanted to know why, they told her, "There is a rumor going around that she is Jewish. We've come to take her to the fortuneteller, who will tell us for sure! Her cards will tell the truth! Remember the three men - how they were killed - after the cards showed they would be shot, just as she said. Everything she said so far came true."

Grandma gave in, saying, "Very well, we will do as you say and you will hear for yourselves that all of this is only gossip."

Off we went to the fortuneteller, Angie's mother. When we arrived, she seemed to be prepared for us and already had the cards on the table. This time I was scared, because I knew that everything she said came to pass, and for sure she would see in the cards that I was Jewish! After we sat down, she proceeded to look at the cards and said, "I see this girl as not being too long with us. She is being taken to a faraway country, where she will be safe. And the country she will live in will be very good to her. She is not Jewish, as you have been suspecting, for I do not see it in the cards."

I could hardly contain myself upon hearing her statement. Grandma said, with great satisfaction, "I hope you will leave us alone now that you know the truth!" Then we all left and went home. On the way, I became very tired, and told Grandma I would like to leave home for a little while and stay with her son, the one who lived not very far from my church. At the same time, I'd have a good rest from the people who had put me through all this testing. Grandma agreed and personally took me to her son's house.

The couple had a little boy, who was a real monster! I mean he was really spoiled! One Sunday morning he was helping me peel potatoes, and for some reason - he became very angry with me, and took his knife and purposely cut my hand! He made a deep cut, from which I still have a scar. Had I been able to see a doctor, I'm sure I would have needed quite a few stitches. But when I looked at the cut, the blood was there, yet I was not bleeding! It was a fascinating sight. They bandaged it up and in about two days there was not a sign of an open cut except for the scar! I called that a miracle! No infection had a chance to set in. I became very conscious of the fact that God was my doctor.

I stayed quite often with the veterinarian son and his family, during the year of 1944 and through February or March of 1945. At that time, the Russians occupied Poland, and the Poles were happy to be freed from the hand of Adolph Hitler. They thought that Russia would be their deliverer. Instead, the Russians came in like "an angel of light," (2 Cor. 11:14), making many false promises. Some of the poor Poles were very happy with the promises, for they were told that there would be no more rich families and that everybody would be equal; that all the lands would be divided up equally and everyone would be working in their own fields.

The Russians did keep their promise and divided up the lands, including most of the land that belonged to Grandma and Grandpa, which was very hard on them. It did not take long before the Poles found out that the Russian way of equality was not such a good idea after all. They learned that even though they had equal shares and were supposed to work in their own fields, they did not really work for themselves. Instead, they became slaves to the Russians!

Now that the war was over, I felt I really had nothing to fear. "The Germans are gone," I thought to myself, "so why should I fear?" Yet, I still had this fear of the Poles. After all, were they not the ones who had been after our lives, as well as the Germans? I had good reason to fear the Poles. One day, I was called into the house by Grandma's daughter-in-law, the wife of the veterinarian. She informed me that Grandma had arrived with a Russian - to take me home. Every nerve in my body was alerted! I entered the room. I saw Grandma, and then I had to look way up to see the man, for he was quite tall. You can imagine my surprise when I saw the face of the parachuted Russian who had hidden in the widow woman's house, where my sisters had stayed! Naturally, I was very happy to see him, but I dared not show my feelings. The thought came to me quickly, "Maybe he feels differently now. Maybe he has become like my father's friends'. I will not let on that I know him."

Grandma said, "This young man claims he knows you. He says you are Pesia Atramentowich." He looked at me excitedly while Grandma was talking.

When she was through, he came over to hug me, but I backed away, and said, "Grandma, I don't know who this man is. Whatever he has told you is a lie!"

Grandma said, "I told him that he was wasting his time by coming here."

The Russian said, "I have brought your sister, Ann, with me. She is waiting for you at the house. We have come to take you away from here."

Grandma agreed, "It is true, there is a woman waiting for you. She claims you are her sister."

The Russian continued to coax me, "You do not have to be afraid anymore. The war is over, the Germans are gone."

In my childlike mind, I thought, "But the Poles are still here!"

Grandma, wanting to get the matter settled and over with, urged me, "The best thing for you to do is come with us and meet this lady who claims to be your sister, and let her see she has made a mistake. On second thought, you do not have any sisters, but only one brother."

At last, Grandma said the correct thing. I looked at her and then it was I who firmly insisted, "You are right, let's go!" Then the three of us got on the sled buggy that the horses pulled, and the Russian held the reins. On the way home, he began telling me what had happened to my father and my brother, even though I tried to stop him by repeating to him, "I'm not that girl!"

He paid no attention to what I said, but continued his story: "After he left you, your father stopped by every so often with your brother, Joseph. Then finally he had to leave Joseph also, but not for long. Afterwards, Joseph was killed in a village nearby - not by the Germans, but by the 'good neighbors.' Three months before the Russians occupied Poland, the same 'good neighbors' killed your father. I think they buried them both in the same place, but I'm not sure."

I tried to hold back my tears

I remember trying to hold my tears in, and kept my face down. It was a miracle that I did not let my emotions be known to them. Only the living God could have kept me in that frame of mind.

The Russian went on, "Your sisters, Ann and Genia, lived through the war by being sent to Germany as Gentile Poles. Somehow, they managed to escape to Switzerland. After the war, they decided to return to find out if anyone was left alive." Before he was able to pass on anymore information, we were home.

I entered the room and there was indeed a lady sitting in a chair, neatly dressed. Grandma introduced me to her, but I did not recognize her as being my sister Ann. The lady began telling me how she found out where I was: She said, "When Genia and I arrived from Switzerland, we really did not know what to do or what procedures to take in finding survivors. Someone finally told us to go to the city where we came from. They said we would probably find the place where the returning Jews were registering. That is how families were being reunited. We went to the registry and asked if anyone else by this name had registered there."

The lady continued her story: "The registrar told us, 'Your cousin registered himself and also a little girl, whose name was Pesia. Your cousin instructed us as follows: 'If anything happens to me before I'm able to get her out of there, make sure that someone else gets her out of there!'"

"A few days later," said the lady, "we found out, at the registry, someone claimed that our cousin entered a store and made this remark: 'Now we are going to avenge ourselves for the killing of our families!' "

Taking a deep breath, the lady went on, "Then the registrar told us, 'As he was leaving the store, someone shot him in the back! We were just getting ready to send a man to the village, to get the little girl, for he had told us the name of the village was Trzczyniec. But now that you are here - you know where to go and can get her out of there.' And now you know, Pesia, how we managed to find you."

Of course, I had to listen to her talk, but I still did not know her. As far as I was concerned, she was a perfect stranger. I told her, "But you are not my sister. I have no sisters."

Grandma then asked her, "Do you know her?"

She answered, "Yes, she IS my sister."

But I insisted, "She is not telling the truth."

I still could not recognize her and thought, "They are really doing a great job to deceive me."

Finally, the woman gave up and said to the Russian, "There's no use, she cannot recognize me. In fact, she does not know me. We will have to leave her here."

As they were opening the door - I recognized her voice! I called her back by name, "Hana, Hana, (Ann, Ann), come back!"

Grandma stood there in shock, saying, "Pola, you do not know what you are saying. You are not Jewish!"

I was relieved to tell her, "Yes, I am Jewish. She is my sister. I recognized her voice as she was leaving, but it does not mean that I am going with her. I do not want to be a Jew anymore. I want to be Catholic. The Jewish people have to suffer too much, so I am through being a Jew. I want to be baptized, that is, if you still want me. Then I will be a real Catholic."

Grandma grabbed me and hugged me and assured me, "Of course I still want you! We will talk to the priest and he will be glad to baptize you."

My sister had no choice but to leave me there. After she left, Grandma called in her two sons (the farmers), her daughter-in-law, and Grandpa, and told them the whole story. They just stood there with their mouths wide open. The boys said, "We can just imagine how you must have felt when we were telling you what we did to that Jew! Boy! We could have sworn you were not Jewish. What a good job you have done. Boy! Are you smart!" I was relieved to come out of hiding at last. I could be a person now and be accepted for what I was - a Catholic, and no more a Jew. How often I had wished that I had not been a Jew, because of all the persecutions the Jews had suffered.

Grandma very wisely said, "Let's not say anything to the villagers about this, not even to the uncles and their families. We will make an appointment with the priest and tell him all about it and everything will be fine." We all agreed with her. Meanwhile, we went on with the usual chores, everyone doing what he was supposed to do, for about two months, when the other two sons, the accountant and the veterinarian, came for a visit. Naturally, they were told everything. Everyone agreed not to wait too much longer, but that I should soon be taken to the priest to be baptized. I was comforted to know that the following Sunday we would be talking with the priest.

Saturdays were always very busy days for us. The farmers took what vegetables and fruit they had grown, besides milk, butter, eggs, and other things, to the open market in the city to sell. I was usually left at home to cook potatoes for the pigs and to do all the other household chores. On the Saturday before the Sunday we were to visit with the priest, I was left all alone, as usual. In the late afternoon, after my chores were done, I sat myself by the window to knit some socks. When I looked out the window, there came that Russian, this time with my other sister, Genia. I got so scared I could have jumped to the ceiling! There was no time to hide. They opened the door and said, "You are coming with us, for you are not safe here!"

I said to the Russian, "I told you and Ann, when you were here the first time, that I do not want to be a Jew! I want to be a Catholic! Why have you brought Genia here to take me away?"

My sister then said, "Have you forgotten what your father said to you, that after the war you were to go to the United States, and there you will find his sister in Detroit, and she will be like a mother to you?"

I replied, "I have not forgotten, but I have decided to stay here. Tomorrow I am going to be baptized."

Genia, upon hearing my statement, cried out angrily, "We have come just in time!" They grabbed me, took me to the horse and buggy, tied me inside the buggy and took off, with me screaming!

They brought me to the village where the widow woman lived. She and her children appeared anxious to see me. I admit I too was excited, even though I had to be kidnapped to be brought there. The first thing the children said to me was, "Remember, Pola, how we got on our bed and started jumping, while you were hiding behind the stove? And when the villagers came in demanding to know where all of you were, we told them you were not here. We're sorry your father got beaten up, but we couldn't help that. Even so, weren't we smart?"

With a smile, I answered, "You sure were smart, very smart!" Then we all hugged and kissed each other.

"I don't want to be Jewish anymore.  I want to be a Catholic"

Now, with my eyes full of tears, I turned to their mother and begged her, "Would you please talk to my sister Genia, for I am not able to get through to her. You see, I don't want to be Jewish anymore. I want to become a Catholic. Just before they kidnapped me, I was going to be baptized, and then I would have been a true Catholic. Won't you please have her take me back to Grandma and Grandpa?"

My sister and the Russian kept on trying to reason with me: "You know, even if we allowed you to go through with the baptism, the Poles will still look upon you as being a Jew, and not a Catholic. Jews will always be persecuted, therefore, your life will always be in danger. Don't you think the best thing for you to do is to be what you were born to be - a Jew?"

The mother then said to my sister, "Genia, maybe we are sinning against God by forcing her to be Jewish..." But Genia just ignored her.

By then, it was time for us to sit down and eat. As we were eating, I said to Genia, "There are only three of us left alive now. It's hard for me to believe that Joseph and father are dead." Such thoughts made me start to cry and my appetite left me.

Then Genia said to me, "Pola, before Ann and I left for Germany, father came to see us. He must have expected us to help you, because the first thing he said, upon entering the house, was 'Where is Pesia, isn't she here?' "

We replied to him, "No, she is not here. We told her to do what you had instructed her to do."

He moaned, "I have killed my little daughter." Then he fainted. When we reassured him that you were safe, he felt somewhat better and left. After that, we did not see him again, because we went to Germany.

The supper-table conversation was over. We got ready to leave for Siedlec. We arrived there to find my other sister very happy that their mission had been successful. Then she explained to me that the Jews who did come back to Siedlec felt unsafe living in separate quarters. Therefore, they had all decided to live in a kibbutz (commune). That way they would be safe from any attack. Since there were not enough Jews to form a kibbutz in Siedlec, they made the decision to go to Warsaw, where there was a kibbutz already formed. In that kibbutz, they shared everything. Nothing belonged to any one person.

When my sisters brought me to the kibbutz, I was the youngest one there. Hardly any children had survived the war, except those of families who lived in Russia. I was everyone's lost sister. My sisters had no chance! Everyone spoiled me rotten. At the same time, I had to be watched very closely, for they feared I might escape and go to church. Before I went to sleep, I crossed myself, knelt down by my bed and prayed. I also crossed myself before every meal.

I was appointed as a steady babysitter to a beautiful little girl, but she had only one leg. Her other leg was lost when the first bombs fell on Poland. She lived through the war in Poland because a Gentile Polish family hid her. This sweet child led me to the different outdoor parks. As we walked, she said, "I wish I could see you when you are all grown up. You are very good looking now, but I can see that you will be beautiful when you are grown up." What a statement for a little child to make. I told her in turn that I thought little girls are the most beautiful of all.

However, I was very lonely. I missed my Grandma, for I had lived with her for over two years. So they sent for her and she came to see me a few times. She was paid by a committee of Jews that were in Siedlec 25,000 zwoty for keeping me. It was very difficult for her to accept the money, because she knew if she had known that I was a Jew - she would not have kept me. She did admit this, but the money was given to her just the same. I remember the first thing she bought herself with that money was a new shawl. The shawl she'd had before was stolen by the men in the underground movement. The women wore shawls on their heads when they went to church. Grandma said, "I will remember this shawl until I die."

The stay in the kibbutz was another way of life unfamiliar to me. There were so many people yet only one big family, with everyone caring for everyone else. I remember how excited they all were about the first Passover holidays, which were now approaching, after so many years of not being able to observe them. I was chosen to ask the Ma-ne-shta-nas(the "Feer Kashes," or the "Four Questions")**, because I was the youngest.

**The "Four Questions" - Wherefore is this night distinguished from all other nights? Any other night we may eat either leavened or unleavened bread, but on this night only unleavened bread; all other nights we may eat any species of herbs, but this night only bitter herbs; all other nights we do not dip even once, but on this night twice; all other nights we eat and drink either sitting or reclined, but on this night we all of us recline.

Usually, the youngest of the family, who is able, asks the father the four questions about why we celebrate this great holiday. Then the father explains why this wonderful celebration. Not having a father, I asked the oldest one there, who was actually like a father to all of us in the kibbutz. Usually, it's the youngest son who asks the four questions, but since there was no younger boy - I stood in place of that boy. I remember having to memorize those four questions in Hebrew. Everyone helped me. I was scared, but I did OK. In a way, we were observing this Passover not only because God had delivered the Jewish people from the hand of the pharaoh, but also because we had been delivered from another pharaoh, the one called Hitler.

I was kidnapped from Grandma's village in 1945 (possibly in March), and I stayed in Warsaw through the summer of 1946. At that time, everyone was making plans to leave for Germany, with the intention of going to Israel later. The whole kibbutz was on their way to Germany. But only German Jews were allowed to enter Germany, so the whole kibbutz said they were German Jews. My sisters instructed me that I was not to say a thing when we were on the train. I was to pretend that I was deaf and dumb. If anyone said anything to me - my sisters would speak for me, because I did not know enough German. It would be better if I said nothing. I thought, "Well, now I am deaf and dumb. What next?" Nothing bothered me anymore. St. Paul said, "...I became all things to all men, that I might by all means save some." (1 Cor. 9:22). I became all things so our lives would be preserved. In a way, it's the same thing, for to be in Christ is life, but to be outside of Christ is death.

I remember being very afraid of the German doctors

We arrived safely in Germany and were placed in DP camps (Displaced Persons camps). Not long after our arrival, I became desperately sick with an attack of appendicitis. I was taken to a hospital and operated on just in time. I remember being very afraid of the German doctors. I thought, "Once they get me on that operating table - I will be dead." I was in such pain - I was out of my head, and called the doctors "Hitlers!" However, by another one of God's miracles, I survived, and came out of the hospital just in time to attend my sister Genia's wedding.

A lot of families came back from Russia after the war. I was very happy to see them, for they had children my age. There were some orphans there too who survived the war because their parents paid Polish families all they had in order to save the lives of their children. The parents knew it would have been impossible for the children to survive alone. It sure felt good having a girlfriend and other friends my age. Now I did not feel so all alone!

It wasn't long before a school was formed in the camp for us, and kindergarten levels as well. Our teacher was a man. I remember on the very first morning we enrolled, this teacher started talking to us in Hebrew! We looked at him, thinking he was off his rocker! We said to one another, "What is he saying? He sure is jabbering away." We all laughed.

He stopped talking, and we stopped laughing. He proceeded to explain to us, in three different languages, Jewish, Polish, and Russian, why he had first spoken to us in Hebrew, a language we did not understand. He said, "From now on you will all speak one language, and that language will be Hebrew! This is the language you just heard me speak, and I heard you laugh at it. You don't realize it, but Hebrew is our original language, and it will be revived. When Israel becomes a nation, you will speak Hebrew and no other language!"

Then he picked up a book which contained "The Five Books of Moses" (Torah), and he said, "This is going to be your textbook; we have no other. You will not only learn the language from it, but also what it contains. Of course, I will teach it to you in Hebrew and you will speak only Hebrew in this room!" We all looked at each other without saying a word, for we knew he meant what he said. Every so often, he would interject a word for our understanding; but, believe it or not, in one month we were able to read, write, and even converse some in Hebrew! Many people think that Hebrew is the same as Jewish, but this is not true. The two languages are as different as night and day. The Jewish language is more like German, which has no relationship whatsoever to Hebrew. There are similarities between Hebrew and Aramaic and Arabic, the Semitic languages.

In 1947, a representative from the Hagana (Freedom Fighters) came to the camp to prepare some of the children to be smuggled into Israel. I spoke enough Hebrew to teach the kindergarten children in that camp. When the Hagana representative told me that I would be doing the same thing in Israel and that I was needed there, naturally, I wanted to go. I told my sisters, who did not object to my going, for I was a real fighter, ready to fight for a land that would really belong to us. We would not be persecuted again throughout the world, for we would have our own nation, and I would not have to fear anyone anymore!

I got my suitcase, packed the few things I had, and left with a bunch of other boys and girls for the truck. We all got on the truck, which drove to the gate, where it was stopped for inspection. A friend of my brother-in-law was on duty at that time and he noticed me, dragged me off the truck and told the driver to move on. He tried to explain to me how dangerous it was to go, and that it would be a miracle if they arrived in Israel safely. And sure enough, after a month or so, we heard that a bomb explosion had killed the whole group, after they had arrived in Israel.

After such reports, some of the people started to lose sight of going to Israel and began to register to go to other countries, such as, Argentina, Brazil, Canada, France, or any country that would take them in. No one could really blame them after all they had been through. My brother-in-law had a family in New York, in the United States of America. They sent him and my sister papers to go there. They wanted to take me with them, but could not. In order for me to be able to go with them, they registered me with other orphans who were to go to the United States of America. An American social worker arrived at the DP camp to register all the children without parents who wanted to go to America.

It sounded good to my sister, but my heart was set for Israel, especially when my Hebrew was coming along so well. I just hated the thought of having to learn another language, which would be English. I was already speaking Jewish, Polish, Russian, German, and Hebrew, and was beginning to speak Czechoslovakian and Hungarian. I seemed to have no problem picking up a language, but English sounded very difficult to me. I thought I would have to pop a hot potato in my mouth in order to get the proper sound.

Shortly after I was registered, I was interviewed a few times and then taken away by a social worker in a jeep to a children's center, also in Germany. The children's center was more like a resort. We stayed there for a few months until we had gained some weight, and then we were taken to a larger center, near Munich. This children's center consisted of children from all different parts of the world. They were waiting for their visas like I was, for the United States of America. The buildings were divided into dorms. One block consisted of boys, another of girls. The blocks were supplied with "room mothers." We each had a choice of different trades to study. School started at 9:00 A.M. and lasted until 4:00 P.M. I studied to be a dental technician, which was very interesting. Another girl and I were the only ones in the class with a bunch of boys. The German professor we had was really nice.

I remember when Israel become a nation in May 1948

One day, I received a letter from my sister telling me that her husband had changed his mind about going to the United States of America. Instead, he wanted to go to his own country, Israel, now that we had a country. It was in May 1948, when Israel was declared a nation. I will never forget it! Everyone danced the Hora in the streets! What joy was in the camp! We had all registered before that, and I left for the children's center in Germany, after Israel was declared a nation. I could not see why my brother-in-law had changed his mind. It puzzled me.

My sister went on to say in the letter that they were already packed and on their way. She told me they would be stopping in the vicinity where the children's center was, and that I would be able to come see them off, and at the same time it would be arranged for me to leave for Israel. I met them at the appointed place. There were others very enthusiastic, all of them trying to talk me into going to Israel. They even had someone there waiting to take me to an airplane, so I could be in Israel before they were. I too became excited and said, "Yes!" But I'd forgotten that I had left the children's center without permission and told my sister about it.

She told me, "Go back quickly before they notice you are missing, but don't tell them anything about the plans we just made. If they find out - you will not be able to leave."

I did as Genia said, with the intention of sneaking out from the children's center the following day to fly to Israel. When I arrived at camp it was suppertime, but I was not very hungry. Nevertheless, I did go to the cafeteria, and who approached me but the rabbi! The first thing he said was "Where were you this afternoon? I looked but you were nowhere around."

I thought to myself, "I have to talk to someone I can trust and why should I not trust the rabbi?" So I told him everything.

He looked at me and said, "They all mean well, but you are still so young you have never really lived. It is better for you to go to the United States of America and experience what it is to live as a normal person; to go to school with children who have never gone through what you have gone through, and learn. After you have been there for awhile, you can always go to Israel, but it will not be so easy from Israel to go to the United States of America."

When he was through talking, I remembered what father had said, "After the war, go to America."

I told the rabbi what my father had told me, and the rabbi said, "Do what you heard your father say and do not listen to anyone else." I did not even go back to tell the others I was not going to Israel. I stayed right there at the children's center and went to school, until my visa was ready for me to leave for the United States of America.

On September 22, 1949, I left for Munich, Germany, by plane, with other teenagers who were going to America. The only ones allowed on the plane were children and pregnant women from DP camps. Husbands were to follow by boat, because there wasn't room for them on the plane. We were all quite excited about the plane ride, as it was the first time for us, even though we were a little scared. The ride was really nice, until I went into the restroom and saw one of the pregnant women vomiting. Up to that time - I had felt real good! After that, I constantly had to have a bag at my seat, because I was so nauseous - I would never have made it to the restroom again. Our first landing was in Ireland. I remember we were taken to a beautiful restaurant for supper. The tables were elegantly set, with waiters and waitresses serving us. It was a wonderful sight for everyone, but I was too sick to enjoy it. And I was the only one who was sick, so I surely had mixed emotions when it came time to board the plane again, but I had no choice. The second landing took place in Newfoundland. There we were taken for some refreshments, probably while the plane was being refueled. From there, our destination was America.

We landed in New York, where a representative from the Jewish Social Service was awaiting us. We were all taken on a bus to a children's center where food was waiting for us. It was a completely new atmosphere. Somehow we managed to go to sleep after being up for hours. We awakened for breakfast, and after breakfast we were instructed as to what they were going to do with us. Each one was told where he was going to go from there. I was told that as soon as they could find a foster home for me in Detroit I would be sent there. I did not want to go to Detroit; I wanted to go with my girlfriend to St.Paul, Minnesota.

The Jewish Social Service told me, "We have been searching for your aunt in Detroit. You told us that your father had told you that he has a sister there. By being in the same city, it might be easier for you to find her. That is why you are going to Detroit."

Two weeks after Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement), I was put on a train going to Detroit. When I arrived, a Jewish social worker met me and took me to her office. From there she called the foster parents informing them of my safe arrival. Shortly afterwards, we arrived at their home. The Jewish Social Service sure picked a family for me. They spoke only English and not a word of anything else! You can just imagine how I felt. You would think that the social worker would have some understanding of my feelings. If she would have just realized how forlorn I felt, for I did not know anyone. At least she could have placed me with a family that spoke one of the languages I was familiar with, but instead, she concentrated on a family that was Jewish.

I, of course, thought every Jew in the world spoke Jewish. In Poland we spoke Polish and Jewish. So when I was asked what kind of family I wanted to live with, Jewish Orthodox or Conservative, I told them, "One not so religious." However, I did not know there would be Jews in America who did not know a word of Jewish! I had taken it for granted they would all speak Jewish and English, for I had never known a Jew who didn't speak Jewish. And though I had never met what I once heard called a "Reformed Jew," I decided this family must be "Reformed Jews." But after awhile, I found out most American Jews were Jews in name only, and were neither Orthodox, nor conservative, nor Reformed Jews.

The social worker that took me there introduced me to Mr. and Mrs. Whispy, who had a son, and a daughter my age, and a young man who was a boarder. Once again I began speaking in sign language, only this time I didn't have to be deaf and dumb, as I had to be on the train from Poland to Germany. The social worker said to me, "I'll let you stay here for a few days, and after that I will come back and take you to a school where you will learn English."

After I had been with the foster parents for about six months, my foster mother somehow found out about a club where only the people of Siedlec met. When she told me about this club, I expressed to her my interest in meeting with them.

She said, "I will get the telephone number from the president of the club and inform her of your being with us. Maybe she will be able to come over and meet you."

I became very excited and told my foster mother to be sure to get in touch with the president, thinking that maybe my father's sister meets with this club. When the time came for this woman to come over one evening, I could hardly wait to meet her. She was a very pleasant person to talk with. I told her about my family and she knew them all from Poland. She had especially known my mother and told me how beautiful and talented she had been. However, the woman did not know of my aunt here in America, let alone in Detroit.

When I told her that even from Germany they had looked for her in all the papers, she said, "I bet they did not look for her in the "Forvitz" (a Jewish newspaper). She probably does not read English, for many of these people, even though they have been here for years, have never learned to read and write English. I will tell you what I will do: I will go to the Forvitz and tell them about you and your aunt. They will have a write-up about this in the Forvitz, and if she is still alive - you can be sure to hear from her."

As soon as that was done, I heard from the woman president on the telephone, telling me that a woman answering my aunt's description had called the Forvitz. You can just imagine what went through my mind when the woman president told me, "Tomorrow morning the Forvitz will have this woman in their office, so be ready, for I'm picking you up to meet her."

I hardly slept that night; everyone in the household was excited with me. The following morning, I got up, ate breakfast and off we went to the Forvitz. Everyone in the place stopped working and were all gathered in one area to witness the reunion! I could not imagine how in the world I would know if she were really my aunt. As I was approaching the group of people, my eyes saw this woman's eyebrows. They looked just like my father's! I walked right up to her and said, "You are my father's sister."

"You are my father's sister"

She asked, "How do you know?"

I replied, "By your eyebrows. They are just like my father's." Then she sat down with me and had me describe my father and the rest of the family.

In the meantime, all the people were just standing there with their mouths wide open, not wanting to miss one word. After awhile, she said to all, "This is really my niece, there is no doubt about it. I have been looking in your paper every day since the war was over, hoping someone by that name would be in the paper. Everyday I saw everyone looking for someone else, not knowing if anyone was left alive from my family. Now, after all these years, I saw my maiden name in the paper."

Of course, my Aunt was married, so her name was not the same. Eventually, I found out I had a first cousin, her daughter, and cousins in New York and Argentina. I moved out from my foster parents' home to live with my Aunt. Her home was just like ours back in Poland: it was strictly Orthodox, not at all like that of an American Jew. She lived here, but the atmosphere was of Poland, under all that Orthodox Law! I was not used to that kind of life anymore. When my Aunt realized this, she called me "the shiksah" (female Gentile). When Saturday (Shabboth, the Sabbath) came, I was allowed to turn on the stove or a light (ordinarily forbidden), because I was not like her. One time, I took a knife by mistake, a knife that was supposed to be used for meats only, and used it for butter. She saw it! The knife was "polluted" after that. She took the knife, put it in the ground, and then scrubbed it. In this way, it became "purified" under the law. After that incident, I had to be very careful.

I had thought that once I found my Aunt - I would be able to live with her, that it would be just as my father had said, "She will be like a mother to you." But after I moved in with her, I found it to be more of a shock to me than when I had come to the foster home. I wondered when I had been with my Aunt for awhile, which was worse. In the foster home, I did not know the language, but in my Aunt's home - I found myself completely out of touch with the Jewish Orthodox way of living. We had to have two sets of dishes, two sets of silverware, two sets of dishtowels, and to remember not to eat dairy foods for six hours after having eaten meat. We were also to remember not to turn on a light after sundown on Friday, or light the stove, or answer the telephone until sundown on Saturday.

My Aunt lived on Gladstone, right off 12th Street, in Detroit, in one of the apartment houses. Her first husband had died, so she remarried. Her second husband was very nice, a humble man, who worked for a synagogue. They weren't poor and they weren't rich, but they had contentment about them. They liked things just the way they were. The Americanization school was only a block away from where my Aunt lived, so I was able to walk to school. When I lived with my foster parents on Martindale Street, I had to take a streetcar to school.

One Friday, before the sun went down, my Aunt sent me to the bakery for a chale (Sabbath egg bread). The traffic was very heavy at that hour, so the cars stopped to let me cross the street. But one car at the other end was coming at full speed and did not see me. I still believe it was a miracle I wasn't killed. I ran across the street with such force that I was lucky to run into a wall there that stopped me. The cars just kept on honking and honking at that man, and I was safe again!

The time came for me to enter regular classes. I was put with the ninth graders, where I liked it very much. In order for me to make up a full grade, I went to summer school. While in summer school, I met a girl who became my friend. Since she didn't live too far away from me, we used to be in each other's homes quite often.

One of the boys, who was sent to Chicago from the children's center, found out where I lived from a friend of his he was visiting in Detroit. The boy from Chicago called me and asked me if I would like to go swimming. The friend he was visiting in Detroit had a car. The Chicago boy said, "If you have a girlfriend for my Detroit friend - we can pick you up, and the four of us can go swimming at Rouge Park."

"It all sounds so nice," I told him, "but I can't go out because of all the homework I have."

The Chicago boy pleaded with me until I finally agreed to go. I told him, "Please call me back, for I have to call Martha, my girlfriend."

When I called her, she said, "There's no problem, but Rubin, my cousin, has a date also. How about they come with us, since Rubin does not have a car?"

"It's O.K. with me," I answered. "The more the merrier!" When they arrived, it was nice to see my friend from the children's center once more. He introduced me to his Detroit friend and soon we were on our way to pick up Martha and Rubin, her cousin.

We honked the horn for Martha to come out. I did not know her cousin, Rubin, lived right next door to her. When he came out, I looked at him and said to myself, "I would like to marry this man." Then I thought, "I must be insane thinking such things!"

The girl Rubin was taking out lived next door to Martha too. All of us got in the car and off we went to Rouge Park. The weather was beautiful. As we were swimming, I forgot that I really didn't know how to swim. I was underwater having myself a great time, when someone swam under me and lifted me up bodily! Who was it but Rubin! Rubin Agauas, Martha's cousin!

Love at first sight

After that, we were inseparable! Someone gave Rubin a birthday party and he invited me to be his guest. In the middle of the party, he grabbed my hand and we ran off to the park. But everyone else was following us! It was a riot! In short, we were in love. You might even call it "love-at-first-sight." Shortly after, Rubin enlisted in the Merchant Marines and I did not hear from him for awhile. Eventually, he did write me and we kept up the correspondence. Then he was drafted into the army. In the meantime, I was going to school and finishing my high school education. I had many friends. Boys were no problem. I went to parties and loved to dance. I couldn't see going to any place where there was no dancing, and how was I going to marry someone who did not dance? Rubin did not really dance, except for a slow tango.

Staying with my Aunt was becoming very difficult due to her set ways. I told my social worker I would like to move out. She found me a foster home and I moved there, with my Aunt's consent, for she understood me. By this time, I was able to make myself understood by my social worker, for language was not a barrier anymore. Therefore, she was able to find me a foster home that was closer to my heart's desire. They were a middle-aged Jewish couple, living alone. They had one daughter, who was married and living away from home. They spoke some Jewish, but this no longer mattered to me.

Rubin came home from the army, after being stationed in Germany. That was March 1953. We became engaged at the same time I was finishing high school. We decided to get married on June 28, 1953. It was a very exciting time! On June 17th - I graduated, and on the 28th we were married, in a Jewish Orthodox Synagogue, with Cantor Adler singing "Because."

I went to work for Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation, doing general office work, mostly typing. I became pregnant, after the doctor told me I would not be able to have any children. On June 17, 1955, Nathan Jeffrey Agauas was born! He was so ugly he was beautiful! When I took him for a walk in the buggy, I would put him on his stomach, so no one could see him. But as he got older, he got better looking.

Rubin loved me so much he wanted to give me everything to make me happy. One thing stopped him, and that thing was money. In order to obtain money quickly - he began to gamble. The more he played cards - the more he lost, even to the point of losing the rent money. Nathan was only six months old at that time and not having anyone to help me, I was unable to work. Rubin would stay out for nights at a time. Then he would show up in the morning, with no money. Things were becoming desperate with us. I wanted to divorce him, but each time I thought about it, I remembered what the rabbi had said, "Whom God has joined together, let no man put asunder." Then I would get this terrible fear of God and could not go through with the divorce.

There was one other way out. One morning, while Nathan was having his nap, I laid myself down on the couch, with the TV on. Instead of watching TV, I was trying to decide what would be the easiest way of committing suicide. I felt that no one really cared if I were alive or dead. The only time I had a husband, family and friends was when I was able to entertain them and give them extravagant gifts. As I was meditating on these unpleasant things, forgetting even that the TV was on, I heard the announcer say, "If you feel that you are all alone and no one cares for you, remember, God loves you." I awakened from my thoughts and became very quiet, as if every fiber in my being was overcome with a perfect peace. In this attitude of mind, I heard these words being spoken to me, "Don't you remember when I was with you when you were all alone, and I cared for you? I am Jesus and I am with you now."

I did not have to hear anything else! I jumped off the couch and screamed, "Jesus! Jesus! You are still in my heart! You never left me, and I thought no one cared for me. Oh, how I love you, Jesus!" I could hardly contain myself. I felt as if I owned the whole world! After a little while, I sat down and thought of all that had been transpiring in this short time. Suddenly, my thoughts came into focus: "What am I doing? I am not supposed to believe in Jesus anymore! I am a Jew! I am sinning against God! I am not going to tell a soul about this, I will just keep it to myself." As I got my thoughts together, I straightened up the place and began dinner. Rubin came home from work and all was well - that is, as well as could be, for Rubin still gambled. But I was never the same after that experience; and, somehow, I was not as lonely as before.

I told them I knew a God who hears me praying without paying

The high holidays, Rosh Hashana (New Year) and Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement) were approaching. Everyone whose parents, brother, or sister, were deceased, usually went to the synagogue to say Yizkor, a prayer for the deceased. Rubin and I went to the synagogue to say this prayer, but they would not let us in, because we did not buy a ticket! I just couldn't believe my ears! We couldn't go into the House of God without paying for a ticket! Some of our friends came out of the synagogue and offered to give us their tickets, so we could go in and say the prayers, but I would not hear of it. I told them I knew a God who hears me without having to pay for a ticket to enter the synagogue! I asked Rubin to take me home.

After a few weeks, I became very concerned about Nathan. I remembered how father would sit down with my brother and me and have us repeat after him the daily prayers, but Rubin did not even read the Bible and was not at all like my father. How would our child learn about God when Rubin had not read a thing about God since he'd had to memorize some of the things from the Torah for his Bar Mitzvah? I panicked, feeling frightened and alarmed, yet I could do nothing about it, except ponder it in my heart. Weeks went by, when suddenly someone knocked on the door. I opened it, with the chain still on the door, for Rubin had told me to keep the door latched and let no stranger in. It was a man, who asked me if I belonged to a synagogue or church, saying that he was just taking a survey. I said, "No, I do not belong to anything like that, but I have been thinking a lot about our son, wondering how he is going to learn about the things of God when his father does not know the Bible."

I realized the man was still behind the door, so I unchained the door and was able to see that the man looked Jewish and asked him if he was Jewish. He answered, "Yes. I believe that Jesus is the Messiah."

I had him repeat his statement. I had never heard of another Jew believing in Jesus, and here is a Jew telling me he believes Jesus is the Messiah! I could not contain myself and told him about what had happened to me a few months ago, when I was lying on the couch. I also told him about what I was told when I first looked at the picture of Jesus, many years before, in catechism class: "Don't be afraid. I have gone through the same thing you are going through. I am a Jew. I have overcome the world and so will you."

When he heard this, the man took the Bible he had in his hands, opened it to John 16:33, and read this to me: "These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world."

Sure enough - there it was in black and white

I had to read it for myself. I could not believe that he was really reading it, and sure enough, there it was in black and white. I jumped off the chair with excitement. The same Jesus that I knew as just another Jew - is the very Messiah! I could barely contain it!

He had to leave for it was getting late. I told him I could hardly wait for my husband to come home from work so I could tell him this wonderful news. I asked him to come over in the evening so my husband could meet him. He said he would come with his wife and left.

Rubin came home from work shortly after the man left. I ran up to him and kissed him, which I had not done for a long time. He did not know what had gotten into me and asked what I had been drinking. I explained, "A man was here and told me that Jesus is the Messiah! And the man who told me that Jesus is the Messiah is also a Jew! You see, for the longest time I thought I was sinning, because I believed in Jesus, but I would never tell you about it. Today I found out that my Jesus is the Messiah! Isn't that wonderful?"

Rubin became red in the face and said angrily, "You are crazy! I do not want you to mention this to anyone, and you'd better forget about this whole thing!"

I did not say a thing to him after that and began to serve supper. Rubin too had been born into a Jewish Orthodox home, the youngest of five boys. His father had so longed for a girl that I can just imagine how he must have felt after being disappointed for the fifth time. On top of that, Rubin's mother died from childbirth when she had Rubin. Rubin grew up with the thought in his mind that his father resented him for his mother's death, for he was harshly disciplined by his father. His father would accuse him of things Rubin would never even think of doing. He always called Rubin a liar. It got to the point where Rubin thought to himself, "I might as well do some of the things he's accusing me of doing, then at least I'll feel a little bit better!" Rubin did not have a home life; his aunts mostly brought him up. His father remarried when Rubin was about 12 years old. Things got better for him then, since he had a more normal home.

After Rubin's mother died, his father gave up his belief even in the existence of God, for he had loved his wife very much. One might say he became an atheist. But I liked him a lot, and he liked me the best of his daughters-in-law. He would say to me, "Paula, I like you, for you always tell me the truth. You're not like my other daughters-in-law. They say one thing to my face, but behind my back - they stab me. Why are you marrying my Rubin? You can get yourself someone much better."

I answered him, "Because I love him." Then he would laugh. He was a very honest person, who could make a dollar stretch further than anyone I knew.

Here is something really funny. Every time it got windy outside, he would call me up and say, "Paula, don't go out today, the wind will blow you away." He would say this because I weighed 95 pounds and was five feet tall. Or he would say, "Don't eat spaghetti, for you are too short."

When Nathan was born I was going to name him Joseph, after my brother, Joseph. But, when I awakened from the anesthesia, Rubin told me, "You cannot name him Joseph, because my father's name is Joseph, and he is still alive."

Though I was quite disappointed, I understood Rubin's feelings, for it is Jewish tradition to name your children after a favored relative who has died; but it is a strong Jewish superstition that if you have a living relative by that same name - then you put the living relative in great jeopardy of death or terrible sickness, if you use their name for your child. So I nicknamed our son "Neddy," which actually made Nathan named after my father instead.

Nathan was our only child to have a Grandpa and Grandma. He was deeply loved by them. Grandpa spoiled him for four years. Then one evening, while he was watching wrestling on the TV, Grandpa said to his wife, "Would you please get me a glass of water. I don't feel so good." While she was in the kitchen getting the water, he died of a heart attack, right in the chair! The man had never been really sick in his entire life.

After I told Rubin My Good News that Jesus is the Messiah, I just couldn't wait to call my cousin and tell her also. When she heard me - she gave such a scream in the telephone that I thought my eardrum would break! She said angrily, "If you persist in this nonsense, you will never hear from me again! She slammed down the phone without saying goodbye! After that, I did not hear from her for awhile.

A week or so passed when I received a telephone call from the same man, asking if it was all right for him and his wife to come over in the evening. I told him, "Yes." When Rubin came home, I told him we were going to have company. Of course, he wanted to know who was coming over. I told him, but, to my surprise, he did not object.

They came and I introduced them to Rubin, and right off they said, "Just call us Betty and Ted. Our last name is Paul." They were so very friendly; Rubin liked them right away. We talked about many things. Because Rubin liked to read comic books, Ted began to read comic books; and, next time they came over, Rubin and Ted had that in common.

"I thought Charleston Hesston really WAS Moses!"

Rubin felt so free talking to them that he made this remark one evening: "I have to be honest with you. When I went to see the movie The Ten Commandments, I thought that Charleston Hesston really was Moses! That's how much I know about the Bible!"

Betty and Ted called themselves "Hebrew-Christians." After awhile, they brought other Hebrew-Christians for us to meet. One evening, Rev. Arthur Glass came over. He was Pastor of the Hebrew-Christian Church. Right away he started preaching to Rubin (not at all like Ted), and Rubin literally told him to leave, then opened the door for him! I just sat there with my mouth open.

Shortly after, Ted and Betty asked me to go to their church one evening, because a baby shower was being given for Betty. She was expecting her first baby. I agreed to go to their church, where I met for the very first time a lot of Jewish believers in Jesus. Grace Brickner introduced herself to me. She was the daughter of Rev. Arthur Glass. I wondered if Rubin would even say hello to her, after having met her father. Even so, I asked her to come with her husband, Harold Brickner, and visit us. Not long after that, they came over, and eventually Rubin and Harold and Gracey and I became close friends. One evening, they brought over Charley Jones, a Gentile believer in Jesus. Yet to me - he seemed to be a true Jew, because he knew Jesus like I did.

Then came the time Charley and Harold asked Rubin to go with them to the Hebrew-Christian Church to hear Haskell Stone speak. Rubin accepted the invitation. I stayed home with Nathan, who was three years old by then, and read the Bible that Ted Paul had given me after his first visit. I immediately devoured the Gospel of St. John. To me the book of St. John was the whole Bible, because of St. John 16:33: "I have said this to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world." Every page was full of love. After St. John, my favorite was the Psalms of David. I just couldn't wait to partake of the Word of Life! I never had to memorize Scriptures, they just jumped out of the pages into my heart!

One time, Ted Paul suggested I take a "Navigator Course" of memorizing Scriptures. I said, "O.K." But I couldn't, no matter how hard I tried. I finally told him it was no use, and gave it up.

As I was sitting there reading the Bible, Rubin and the others came back from church. I hadn't really expected anything to happen, but when I looked up at Rubin, his face seemed different, full of excitement! He said, "Honey, all my life I cursed God and did not know it. Haskell Stone was speaking from the Book of Job, and when he came to the part where Job's wife said, 'Why don't you curse God and die!' (Job 2:9), I realized right then and there that God was telling me that I was cursing Him! Honey, He is the Messiah!" He hugged me and kissed me, but I did not tell him l was crazy, as