chocolate for no particular reason. Walter looks at me for approval and when I nod, he gives her a big hug and thanks her in a whisper.
He looks at his treasure, not believing it. If he could jump up and down, he would have.
She looks genuinely happy at his response.
We turn down Walterâs offer to share and watch with amusement as he breaks off a fingernail piece to enjoy each day.
Chapter 32
O ne day, we see Helena crying under her tree and donât know why.
Later, Franciszka tells us that her son was killed.
We know that Damian was responsible for helping to feed us and, although we only met him a few times, we were grateful to him.
There is so much sorrow everywhere.
Anelie and Bryda start crying, but even then we have to be careful not to be heard.
I promise myself that if we survive this, I will never forget what Franciszka and her family have sacrificed for us.
At the beginning of the war, no one believed that the Germans, a civilized people, would enforce mass executions of the Jewish people, as they have done. We thought that hiding with Franciszka would be temporary and short, but now itâs been over a year.
We live each moment not knowing if it will be our last.
We live with constant fear, but we have to fight the boredom that is each day as well. Boredom can make you careless, and I stay alert not to let this happen.
â¢Â   â¢Â   â¢
T HE SITUATION BECOMES quite alarming when German soldiers park their tanks right outside the shed. Luckily, a smelly pigsty is not inviting for most people. It doesnât bother us because we have become accustomed to the smell and donât even notice it.
Franciszka purposely does not shovel out the waste from the pigs too often, knowing that German soldiers take great pride in their shiny boots and would not likely want to walk into a dirty pigsty. You never know, though, and seeing those uniforms so close is unnerving.
We are so terrified that we donât dare peek out of the curtain.
Walter cuddles up to me, and I know he is scared like the rest of us.
Part III
M IKOLAJ
Chapter 33
M y father is a doctor and the head of the hospital. People bow when they see him.
He believes that because of his position and his importance in the community, he doesnât have to worry about being Jewish.
My father is a smart man, but he is wrong.
By the time he realizes this, itâs too late for us to escape.
My mother is a beautiful woman who has lived a life of privilege all her thirty years.
Like everyone else, she defers to my father, who makes all the decisions. But, for the first time, my father does not know what to do. It hits him very hard.
My mother is about eight years younger than my father. She is the daughter of his professor, and my father met her when he, along with six other students, was invited over to their home for dinner.
I have heard this story from my mother a hundred times. I think that she likes to replay it in her mind.
My mother says, âYour father showed up and I thought he was the most handsome man that I had ever seen, but I was just a young girl and quite awkward in front of him.
âAfter dinner, my father asked me to play the piano and sing for our guests. I was quite nervous, but I sang a traditional Polish song that most people would know. I could see your fatherâs face transform with delight as I sang. I didnât know, but it was one of his favorite songs and one that his mother sang to him as a child.
âAfter I finished singing, he stood up and enthusiastically started to clap. This is unusual for your father. You know how reserved he is, and it was funny because he found himself standing all alone for a few seconds before the rest of the guests realized what had happened and stood up as well.
âAfter that, your father always found a reason to come by the house. Maybe it was to clarify a point in class or for some feedback on a paper he was writing.
âYour
He looks at his treasure, not believing it. If he could jump up and down, he would have.
She looks genuinely happy at his response.
We turn down Walterâs offer to share and watch with amusement as he breaks off a fingernail piece to enjoy each day.
Chapter 32
O ne day, we see Helena crying under her tree and donât know why.
Later, Franciszka tells us that her son was killed.
We know that Damian was responsible for helping to feed us and, although we only met him a few times, we were grateful to him.
There is so much sorrow everywhere.
Anelie and Bryda start crying, but even then we have to be careful not to be heard.
I promise myself that if we survive this, I will never forget what Franciszka and her family have sacrificed for us.
At the beginning of the war, no one believed that the Germans, a civilized people, would enforce mass executions of the Jewish people, as they have done. We thought that hiding with Franciszka would be temporary and short, but now itâs been over a year.
We live each moment not knowing if it will be our last.
We live with constant fear, but we have to fight the boredom that is each day as well. Boredom can make you careless, and I stay alert not to let this happen.
â¢Â   â¢Â   â¢
T HE SITUATION BECOMES quite alarming when German soldiers park their tanks right outside the shed. Luckily, a smelly pigsty is not inviting for most people. It doesnât bother us because we have become accustomed to the smell and donât even notice it.
Franciszka purposely does not shovel out the waste from the pigs too often, knowing that German soldiers take great pride in their shiny boots and would not likely want to walk into a dirty pigsty. You never know, though, and seeing those uniforms so close is unnerving.
We are so terrified that we donât dare peek out of the curtain.
Walter cuddles up to me, and I know he is scared like the rest of us.
Part III
M IKOLAJ
Chapter 33
M y father is a doctor and the head of the hospital. People bow when they see him.
He believes that because of his position and his importance in the community, he doesnât have to worry about being Jewish.
My father is a smart man, but he is wrong.
By the time he realizes this, itâs too late for us to escape.
My mother is a beautiful woman who has lived a life of privilege all her thirty years.
Like everyone else, she defers to my father, who makes all the decisions. But, for the first time, my father does not know what to do. It hits him very hard.
My mother is about eight years younger than my father. She is the daughter of his professor, and my father met her when he, along with six other students, was invited over to their home for dinner.
I have heard this story from my mother a hundred times. I think that she likes to replay it in her mind.
My mother says, âYour father showed up and I thought he was the most handsome man that I had ever seen, but I was just a young girl and quite awkward in front of him.
âAfter dinner, my father asked me to play the piano and sing for our guests. I was quite nervous, but I sang a traditional Polish song that most people would know. I could see your fatherâs face transform with delight as I sang. I didnât know, but it was one of his favorite songs and one that his mother sang to him as a child.
âAfter I finished singing, he stood up and enthusiastically started to clap. This is unusual for your father. You know how reserved he is, and it was funny because he found himself standing all alone for a few seconds before the rest of the guests realized what had happened and stood up as well.
âAfter that, your father always found a reason to come by the house. Maybe it was to clarify a point in class or for some feedback on a paper he was writing.
âYour
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