Girl with an apple >> DO NOT MISS READING THIS.. GOOD FOR YOUR SOUL.. >> This is a true story...sensitive, touching and more. Please take the time to read it. >> >> *A Girl With An Apple* >> >> *(This is a true story and you can find out more by Googling* >> *Herman Rosenblat. He was Bar Mitzvahed at age 75)* >> >> >> *August 1942. Piotrkow , Poland ...* >> >> The sky was gloomy that morning as we waited anxiously. >> All the men, women and children of Piotrkows Jewish ghetto >> had been herded into a square. >> >> Word had gotten around that we were being moved. My father >> had only recently died from typhus, which had run rampant >> through the crowded ghetto. My greatest fear was that our >> family would be separated. >> >> Whatever you do, Isidore, my eldest brother, whispered to me, >> dont tell them your age. Say youre sixteen. >> >> I was tall for a boy of 11, so I could pull it off. That way I might >> be deemed valuable as a worker. >> >> An SS man approached me, boots clicking against the cobblestones. >> He looked me up and down, and then asked my age. >> >> Sixteen, I said. He directed me to the left, where my three brothers >> and other healthy young men already stood. >> >> My mother was motioned to the right with the other women, children, >> sick and elderly people. >> >> I whispered to Isidore, Why? >> >> He didnt answer. >> I ran to Mamas side and said I wanted to stay with her. >> >> >> No, she said sternly. >> Get away. Dont be a nuisance. Go with your brothers. >> >> She had never spoken so harshly before. But I understood: >> She was protecting me. She loved me so much that, just this once, >> she pretended not to. It was the last I ever saw of her. >> >> My brothers and I were transported in a cattle car to Germany ... >> >> We arrived at the Buchenwald concentration camp one night later >> and were led into a crowded barrack. The next day, we were issued >> uniforms and identification numbers. >> >> Dont call me Herman anymore. I said to my brothers. Call me 94983. >> >> I was put to work in the camps crematorium, loading the dead >> into a hand-cranked elevator. >> >> I, too, felt dead. Hardened, I had become a number. >> >> Soon, my brothers and I were sent to Schlieben, one of Buchenwald s >> sub-camps near Berlin .. >> >> One morning I thought I heard my mothers voice. >> >> Son, she said softly but clearly, I am going to send you an angel. >> >> Then I woke up. Just a dream. A beautiful dream. >> >> But in this place there could be no angels. There was only work. >> And hunger. And fear. >> >> A couple of days later, I was walking around the camp, around the >> barracks, near the barbed-wire fence where the guards could not >> easily see. I was alone. >> >> On the other side of the fence, I spotted someone: a little girl with >> light, >> almost luminous curls. She was half-hidden behind a birch tree. >> >> I glanced around to make sure no one saw me. I called to her softly in >> German. Do you have something to eat? >> >> She didnt understand. >> >> I inched closer to the fence and repeated the question in Polish. >> She stepped forward. I was thin and gaunt, with rags wrapped around >> my feet, but the girl looked unafraid. In her eyes, I saw life. >> >> She pulled an apple from her woolen jacket and threw it over the fence >> >> I grabbed the fruit and, as I started to run away, I heard her say faintly, >> Ill see you tomorrow. >> >> >> I returned to the same spot by the fence at the same time every day. >> She was always there with something for me to eat - a hunk of bread or, >> better yet, an apple. >> >> We didnt dare speak or linger. To be caught would mean death >> for us both. >> >> I didnt know anything about her, just a kind farm girl, except that she >> understood Polish. What was her name? >> Why was she risking her life for me? >> >> Hope was in such short supply, and this girl on the other side of the fence >> gave me some, as nourishing in its way as the bread and apples. >> >> Nearly seven months later, my brothers and I were crammed into a >> coal car and shipped to Theresienstadt camp in Czechoslovakia ... >> >> Dont return, I told the girl that day. Were leaving. >> >> I turned toward the barracks and didnt look back, didnt even say >> good-bye to the little girl whose name Id never learned, >> the girl with the apples. >> >> We were in Theresienstadt for three months. The war was winding down >> and Allied forces were closing in, yet my fate seemed sealed. >> >> On May 10, 1945, I was scheduled to die in the gas chamber at10:00 AM. >> >> In the quiet of dawn, I tried to prepare myself. So many times death >> seemed ready to claim me, but somehow Id survived. Now, it was over. >> >> I thought of my parents. At least, I thought, we will be reunited. >> >> But at 8 A .M. there was a commotion. I heard shouts, and saw people >> running every which way through camp. I caught up with my brothers. >> >> Russian troops had liberated the camp! The gates swung open. >> Everyone was running, so I did too. Amazingly, all of my brothers >> had survived; >> >> Im not sure how. But I knew that the girl with the apples had been the >> key to my survival. >> >> In a place where evil seemed triumphant, one persons goodness had >> saved my life, had given me hope in a place where there was none. >> >> My mother had promised to send me an angel, and the angel had come. >> >> Eventually I made my way to England where I was sponsored by a >> Jewish charity, put up in a hostel with other boys who had survived >> the Holocaust and trained in electronics. Then I came to America , >> where my brother Sam had already moved. I served in the U. S. Army >> during the Korean War, and returned to New York City after two years. >> >> By August 1957 Id opened my own electronics repair shop. >> I was starting to settle in. >> >> One day, my friend Sid who I knew from England called me. >> >> Ive got a date. Shes got a Polish friend. Lets double date. >> >> A blind date? Nah, that wasnt for me. >> >> But Sid kept pestering me, and a few days later we headed up to the >> Bronx to pick up his date and her friend Roma. >> >> I had to admit, for a blind date this wasnt so bad. Roma was a nurse >> at a Bronx hospital. She was kind and smart. Beautiful, too, >> with swirling brown curls and green, almond-shaped eyes that >> sparkled with life. >> >> The four of us drove out to Coney Island . Roma was easy to talk to, >> easy to be with. >> >> Turned out she was wary of blind dates too! >> >> We were both just doing our friends a favor. We took a stroll on the >> boardwalk, enjoying the salty Atlantic breeze, and then had dinner by >> the shore. I couldnt remember having a better time. >> >> We piled back into Sids car, Roma and I sharing the backseat. >> >> As European Jews who had survived the war, we were aware that much >> had been left unsaid between us. She broached the subject, >> Where were you, she asked softly, during the war? >> >> The camps, I said. The terrible memories still vivid, the irreparable >> loss.. >> I had tried to forget. But you can never forget. >> >> She nodded. My family was hiding on a farm in Germany , >> not far from Berlin , she told me. My father knew a priest, >> and he got us Aryan papers. >> >> I imagined how she must have suffered too, fear, a constant companion. >> And yet here we were both survivors, in a new world. >> >> There was a camp next to the farm. Roma continued. I saw a boy there >> and I would throw him apples every day. >> >> What an amazing coincidence that she had helped some other boy. >> What did he look like? I asked. >> >> He was tall, skinny, and hungry. I must have seen him every day >> for six months. >> >> My heart was racing. I couldnt believe it. >> >> This couldnt be. >> >> Did he tell you one day not to come back because he was leaving >> Schlieben? >> >> Roma looked at me in amazement. Yes! >> >> That was me! >> >> I was ready to burst with joy and awe, flooded with emotions. >> I couldnt believe it! My angel. >> >> Im not letting you go. I said to Roma. And in the back of the car >> on that blind date, I proposed to her. I didnt want to wait. >> >> Youre crazy! she said. But she invited me to meet her parents for >> Shabbat dinner the following week. >> >> There was so much I looked forward to learning about Roma, >> but the most important things I always knew: her steadfastness, >> her goodness. For many months, in the worst of circumstances, >> she had come to the fence and given me hope. Now that Id found >> her again, I could never let her go. >> >> That day, she said yes. And I kept my word. After nearly 50 years >> of marriage, two children and three grandchildren, I have never let her go. >> >> Herman Rosenblat of Miami Beach , Florida >> >> >> >> >> *This story is being made into a movie called The Fence
Posted on: Sat, 26 Jul 2014 18:06:47 +0000
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