Trap (9781476793177) by Robert K. Tanenbaum Page A

his subjects—really, discussions about ethics and morality—for the classes he taught. I think you will have to trust that whatever decision you reach, he will stand with you. Now, I need to go in before my friend Rose begins her talk. You’re a good man, too. Now, walk with me to the synagogue.”
    When they reached the door, Zak opened it and let Moishe walk through. But he hesitated to come in. “Maybe I’ll just wait for my dad and brother out here.”
    â€œIt is too cold,” Moishe replied. “And I think the speaker is someone you should hear. It’s not going to be the rabbi talking your ear off; she is the wife of my oldest and dearest friend, Simon Lubinsky. Humor an old man and sit with me to listen to her story. I think you might get something out of it that could help you with your decision.”
    Zak tilted his head and laughed. “You’re very clever, Moishe. But okay, I think I owe you that much.”
    The pair entered the synagogue and made their way to where males were seated and took their places next to Karp and Giancarlo. “There’s Simon,” Moishe said, pointing to another old man sitting in the front row.
    Zak spotted Goldie seated in the front row of the women’s section next to his mother, Marlene, and a gray-haired woman. He knew she was Rose Lubinsky not because of her connection to the Jewish community but from photographs of her in the newspaper and stories about her work with charter schools.
    All conversations stopped when Rabbi Michael Hamilburg, a much-loved spiritual leader known for his kindness and the gentle way he had of dealing with his flock, walked to the front and greeted them. “Shalom, welcome, friends. We are gathered here on this cold evening to listen to a message I think we will all find moving and thought-provoking. We all know Simon and Rose Lubinsky as fellow worshippers, but tonight I’ve asked Rose to share her story with you, although it is a difficult one for her to tell. As you all know, she has written a book about her life called The Lost Children of the Holocaust . Without further ado, Rose Lubinsky.”
    With all eyes on her, the gray-haired woman bowed her head and appeared as if she was unsure of what she was about to do. Then Goldie stood and offered her hand, which her friend took and allowed herself to be led to stand in front of the congregation. Goldie kissed her hand and made the sign language symbol of encouragement, then took her seat.
    Rose’s face was pale but then she cleared her throat and began. “Shalom, my friends, and thank you for coming,” she said, her voice quiet, uncertain. “I’ve asked to speak tonight as a step in a long road toward unburdening myself of the guilt that I have carried for many years and to help me keep a promise.”
    Many in the crowd frowned, or looked confused. They had known her for many years and could not imagine that she carried some dark secret. “Like any long road, this one starts with a first step, so I will begin like this. I am originally from Lublin, Poland, where my people had lived since the seventeenth century. My father, Shmuel Kuratowski, was a bookkeeper for a gentile farming cooperative outside the city, and a gabbai who assisted the rabbi at our local synagogue. I can hardly picture his face before the war, but I remember like it was yesterday his deep, rich voice reading the Torah. My mother, Zofia, was a good woman, who took great care of her husband and her children, and loved God . . . or so I was told. I have no memories of my siblings—I was the youngest of six—and precious few of my mother and father.”
    As she spoke, Rose’s voice began to grow stronger, though all who heard her realized that tears were welling just beneath the surface. “I was five years old in 1939 when the war in Europe broke out. And seven in 1941, when the Germans created the Lublin Ghetto where Jews