I was born into a bourgeois family in Bukovina, a region of Romania, in a town named Gura Humorului. The first daughter of a young couple, and the first grandchild in the family. Endless happiness!
Endless happiness?
The sounds of war were approaching our area, and happiness turned into panic and fear of the unknown.
In October 1941, when I was just sixteen months old, a proclamation ordered all the Jews of the town, healthy, sick, young and old, to gather at the train station and bring with them everything their hands could carry.
We were exiled to an area called Transnistria, where death awaited about sixty percent of those arriving. A slow death from starvation, cold, hunger and diseases. The only goal we had there was to survive.
After three years of suffering and losing our beloved, we returned to Romania and all we wanted was to get out of the country that did not remember its Jews, and their contribution to the economy, growth, and culture.
One evening, ten years ago, I suddenly realized I had to write down all the tragic events that happened, and all the unbelievable miracles that took place and saved me and my family’s life.
I had to write it down before our generation of survivors would disappear, and things would be forgotten.
In large letters I started writing my first book, “WAITING FOR A MIRACLE”
'למלא את הזמן בחיים' הוא ספרי הראשון. הסיפור החל אי שם בערבות רוסיה באמצע המאה ה- 19 ואני הייתי שם….אף על פי שכל זה קרה לפני 160 שנה!
את קורותי וקורות משפחתי – משפחתכם – תוכלו לקרוא בספר. זהו סיפור המאפיין את גורלם של יהודי מזרח אירופה. ולמרות זאת יש בסיפורי משהו מיוחד. דרך של הישרדות המלווה בצלילים של כינור, כינורו של אבי, כינור אחד שבזכותו ניצלו 17 נפשות.
כינור שהנעים מנגינות לאוקראינים לרומנים ולגרמנים – מנגינות עליזות במרכזו של גיהינום!