Some of the most precious encounters happen spontaneously – encounters with survivors whom we would never meet at an event due to their age. Many of our project partners are descendants of Holocaust survivors, including Yonatan, who told me about his 100-year-old grandmother in Netanya during a visit to the Jaffa Institute.
By Anemone Rüger
The so-called expressway to the north, riddled with construction and therefore slow-moving traffic even on weekends, runs through Netanya. I want to at least try to find a parking space, a flower shop, and Adina, Yonatan's grandmother, in the congested city center. Three small miracles for a precious and healing moment.
Adina is resting on her daybed because she feels weak. She is being cared for by a young woman from India who has learned Hebrew for her. This still beautiful woman, with such a special aura, has lived through a whole century of human history! "That's my dad in the photo, and to his left is my brother. And in the other photo is me with my mother," Adina explains. The caregiver has hung the photos opposite Adina's bed so she can always see them.
I tell Adina about my family, about the many Christians in Germany who love the Jewish people, about my work. "That's very beautiful," Adina says again and again in a soft voice; each sentence clearly takes effort. The flowers make her glow. When I read her the card with the verse from Isaiah 62, she quietly repeats each word: "You will be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord..." Then she whispers with all her might, "You can't imagine how happy I am that you visited me!" Only later do I learn her whole story from her grandson Yonatan.
From the Carpathians to Auschwitz
“My grandmother was born in 1924 in Svaljawa near Mukachevo in the Carpathian Mountains – then Czechoslovakia, now Ukraine,” Yonatan recounts. “She was the middle of three children. The family was wealthy; they had a large house. The father, Yitzchak, was often away on business in America, and Malka, the mother, stayed home with the children.”
When the war broke out, Yitzhak returned to be with his family. He was immediately deported to a labor camp and died there. Adina's older brother also disappeared into a labor camp. "My grandmother was already 18 when the Germans invaded," Yonatan continues. "She was deported to Auschwitz with her mother and younger brother. She remembers that they had to line up in front of a certain Mengele.".
Then her brother Schmil was selected. He was perhaps eight or nine. Malka began to cry and ran after her son. That's how they both went into the gas chamber together. My grandmother was distraught; she didn't understand what was happening. 'Do you see that smoke over there? That's where they're taken,' one of the prisoners told her. She had to work in the crematorium until liberation. Her job was to examine the bodies after the gassing to see if they were wearing any gold on their bodies
Yonatan tells me this so casually over the phone. I can hardly breathe. "My grandmother never talked about it. But my mother grew up with the fact that her mother screamed in her sleep every night, plagued by nightmares and crying for her family. She always needed strong pills to be able to fall asleep."
New beginning in America
After the war ended, Adina and other survivors were initially taken to Hungary; a year later, she boarded a ship to the United States. By then, she was 22 years old and alone in the world. A Jewish couple from Minnesota adopted her, gave her a new home, and helped her train as a kindergarten teacher—a profession she pursued with great passion throughout her life. Eventually, she moved to New York, where a large community of Holocaust survivors had formed.
She was still haunted by the question of what had become of her older brother. "One day she was standing in line at a store," Yonatan recounts. "Someone tapped her on the shoulder. It was Hersz, her brother, two years older than her. He had searched for her for a long time. He then took care of her for the rest of his life. He already owned several bars in New York and had achieved a certain level of prosperity. He visited her every Shabbat. And every few years he bought her a car, even though she already had a family of her own and was financially secure. He supported her like a big brother until his death 17 years ago."
Aliyah at 81
After 30 years, Adina moved with her family to Florida, where she stayed for another 20 years. Already in her late retirement, at the age of 81, she decided to make Aliyah with her 90-year-old husband and join their two daughters in Israel. She had already learned Hebrew in her hometown in the Carpathian Mountains. "Grandma Adina always had guests for Shabbat," Yonatan recalls. "When we visited her in the US before, it was often the case that there were ten or fifteen guests at the table who otherwise had no one."
When Yonatan receives the flower photos from the caregiver just minutes after my visit, he thanks me profusely. "What you did for my Grandma is incredible!" Really? I'm ashamed by his words. Compared to Adina's story, it seems like less than nothing. Now that he's told me the whole story, all I want to do is cry. And go back again right away. But at the same time, I know: God takes the little we have and makes something divine out of it.
This article first appeared in our newspaper "Israelaktuell," issue 143. You can order the newspaper here . We would also be happy to send you several copies for distribution.
