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Long Island Group Stitches Holocaust ProjectIf Rivers Could Speakbased on the testimony of Charlene Schiffby Lenny Holland
And most of the people were doing just that. Mama kept whispering to me to stay put and not make a sound. Days passed in confusion. Shots kept coming seemingly from every direction. It was hard to remain quiet while listening to screams and cries and watching fire and smoke coming from the ghetto. "When are we going to cross the river, Mama?" I wanted to know. Mama tried to calm me and assured me that we would cross the river as soon as the Ukranians and Germans left. "When will that be?" I asked rather impatiently. I was only 11 years old. "Soon, my sweet child,soon," Mama replied. "At that time we will make our way to the farm of the K. family," Mama explained. Farmer K. had promised to hide Mama and me. We knew his family. We used to buy dairy products from them before the war. It was very tiring to stand in the river and at times I dozed off leaning on the bulrushes. One horrible moment I woke up and Mama was nowhere in sight! I was terrified, all alone, lost. I felt betrayed and guilty for falling asleep. I felt like screaming and crying for Mama, but could do neither. By evening, all had become quiet. I thought that Mama couldn't wake me and had made her way to the farm where she would be waiting for me. I crossed the river and walked until I reached the farmer's place. He greeted me in the barn like a stranger who was not welcome at all. He wouldn't even let me in the house. I noticed Papa's gold pocket watch and chain dangling from his dirty coveralls. He told me Mama was not there. I never saw my mother again. Posted on December 23, 2005. Return to Top | Article Index | Home |