I can’t has always been my answer to why I won’t. Since I have been brought to the Ghetto that answer has been coming up a lot lately. Now I find myself sitting here, alone and scared.
A few days ago, on April 19, 1943, the Germans started their plan to deport all of the Jews from the Ghetto. Although, what they didn’t know was that their plan was being cut short. That’s when the Jews started to attack. I watched as Jews went down and thought to myself, “Is it worth one more women to throw herself into battle? What more would I be able to do? Am I making the right decision sitting here alone in safety while other Jews are losing their lives to protect the lives of others? I’m too weak. I’m too slow. I can’t.”
Here I am today. The first day the Germans started to burn down the Ghetto. I don’t know where to go or what to do, so I just stay here. I sit in the burning rubble of the Ghetto and wait. What for, I’m not sure. Am I waiting to die? Am I waiting for someone to find me and bring me to safety? Or am I waiting for a SS officer to take me away to my death? I’m not sure what is going to happen to me after today. While I wait, I watch children, mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and neighbors run wild trying to find a secure place to go. As they run SS officers scoop them up like sand and throw them into the deportation cars. I could run out and try to bring them to safety, but what then would happen to me? What if a SS caught me? Or what if the burning flames fell over me and I died a slow painful death? I don’t deserve to die. Not yet. I know what’s good for me and if any of the other Jews knew what was good for them they would be right here with me, in hiding. I can’t tell people you’ll be better here instead of trying to run from the flames but I can tell myself I’ll be safe, and that’s enough for me.
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