They took me to the house of a seamstress who, probably
in return for some money, kept me, accepted to keep a 10 year old little girl in her house… She lived in a tiny, tiny, one-room flat
on the ground floor. She lived in the same room where
she received her customers,she sewed, she did her work.
Me, I slept in the kitchen on a pile of old rags and I tried
to be of some use.
I didn't stay very long with her… Maybe 3, 4 weeks. One day,
two men came, two men in civilian clothes, with hats on.
They asked the seamstress: who is this girl? She replied: she's, she's my niece. Oh, so she's your niece? Well, we're going to check that out with the Gestapo. Come, come along, I'm taking you there. Me, I knew only too well what Gestapo meant.
But I didn't scream. I didn't cry.The seamstress handed me my coat. I buttoned it. I was stiff, like a block of ice. I was very scared. I was saying to myself: this is the end. It's all over.
It's finished. And then I heard the seamstress whispering
to the two men. I heard them talking about money. Zlotys… Zlotys… And then, after a time, the seamstress pushed me towards the door and she told me: go! And I left. I was so scared that day. That fear… it left… a black hole inside me…
