June 2, 1942

Mama and Hannah seem to be on better terms, although it may just be forced politeness. At least Hannah acknowledges Mama's presence now. Shavuot is coming soon, but none of us can remember what day it falls on this year.

Today at least 500 people were relocated into Lodz. We usually have around 100 or so a week, I would guess. Then again I can't see much from the factory window. The group that my family and I arrived in was no more than 30. Although many Jews boarded our train, not all were relocated to Lodz.

Anyways, Elias, Brygid, and I watched them pour in today. The officers who keep watch on the factory had been called to assist with this massive relocation, so the three of us could safely watch from the door without fear of being caught not working. I heard snatches of some of the people talking in a language I didn't understand. I think it may have been Dutch, but I'm not sure.

A family with six children, all under the age of eleven, were put into the apartment next to ours. I can't imagine how their mother keeps up with all of them. One of the two daughters introduced herself to me as Rakiya. Her siblings are Akiva, Amir, Feivel, Lavi, and Erez. Hannah marched right over and introduced herself. We spent the evening helping them unpack the few things they had been able to bring along. Rakiya and Akiva seemed to take great interest in me, and it took me a while to shake them off. I'm glad they are friendly. It's good to see some nice people in the ghetto.

June 4, 1942

The family next to us seems to be doing Mama some good. She smiles more frequently now. Sophie gets along well with Akiva because they are close in age. It took me a long while to stop getting them all mixed up, but I'm fairly sure this is correct.

Amir: age 10

Akiva: age 9

Lavi: age 7

Erez: age 5

Rakiya: age 4

Feiyel: age 2

June 9, 1942

There's been a horrible accident. Lavi and Erez are dead. I don't know how it happened, but I think it had something to do with those nasty German tanks that come through sometimes. Their mother is distraught and I can't blame her. We lost Daddy, but losing one of my siblings is unthinkable. And to lose a child...

June 10, 1942

The heavens cry for the little boys. It poured all today. Sophie, Hannah, and I had to dash to work, and even then we arrived completely drenched. Apparently Brygid and Elias had found out about our neighbors (no doubt Hannah told Mikolai and he couldn't keep quiet). They said they'd seen it before. The Gestapo drive their tanks through without a care and a few people are unlucky enough to be in their way.

June 13, 1942

Mikolai has taken up Herr Frodyma's old position. Nobody wanted it and the Gestapo mainly kept away from us (with the exception being in Brygid's case). Mikolai finally snapped though when one of the Gestapo started lingering by Hannah and telling her, "A Jewyet so fair..." So in order to keep the officers out, Mikolai is our new manager. Brygid and Hannah are thrilled (naturally). I'm not so sure. Though Mikolai is very nice, he's not the most responsible person. I don't want him to cause Hannah to slack off and get in trouble with the Gestapo.

June 15, 1942

No sleep. Last night the building we are in was cleared out of elderly people. I was grateful that Elias and Brygid don't live in this building or their grandfather would have been taken away, and they would be all alone.

We first heard the Gestapo at around midnight or so. There was scuffling in the rooms under us. My sisters and I thought nothing of it, but the sound worried Mama. She had us girls come into the room that she and Daniel sleep in. Mama paced around nervously so my siblings and I crammed together in the bed.

It was nowhere near big enough for the four of us. Sophie fell asleep with her head tucked under my arm. The noises got closer and sometimes sounded violent. I snuggled up next to Hannah and tried to block out the sound. Hannah was watching Mama like a hawk.

Soon the noises were close enough that we could hear bits and pieces of what was being said. I couldn't understand most of it because it was in German, but the snatches I caught weren't kind.

Finally, about an hour after we had all been ordered into Mama's room, they came for us. The Gestapo pounded on the door until it rattled. Sophie opened a bleary eye and looked up at me.

"Reina, your elbow is in my face!". I didn't move. Mama leaned over us and said hastily, "I'm going to answer the door. From what I can hear and comprehend they are evicting elderly people only. Do what they say and don't speak unless they say something to you first. Stay calm!" She straightened up and went to answer the door.

Daniel, who was now wide awake, crawled into my lap. I put my arms around him and held on. Sophie latched onto Hannah. We heard the door creak open.

"How many I help you?" Mama asked in broken German. At that moment I wished Elias was there and could speak to the officers. The men did not answer for all I heard was them filing in. About four officers entered the room where my siblings and I sat. Their eyes slid over the four of us. Daniel tensed when they gaze fell upon him.

Two of the officers came over to the bed. By this time I was hardly daring to breathe. They only wanted us to move though. One grabbed my sisters by the arms and hauled them out of the bed. The other tore Daniel from me and shoved me into the wall. They stripped back the linens, but I don't see how they thought anyone could hide under the covers. When no one was found, they left and went to our new neighbors.

Sophie crossed the room and helped me to my feet. Mama came back in looking shaken.

"Are you alright, Reina?" she asked. I nodded and allowed Sophie to pull me up by the arm. Hannah took Daniel in her arms and placed him back in the bed. He whimpered and held his hands out to me. I climbed into bed next to him, and Sophie joined us. Hannah and Mama could not stay still.

Shortly after the Gestapo left there was another knock on the door, although this time it was soft. Hannah went to answer it. It was our neighbors along with Amir, Akiva, Rakiya and Feiyel. They had come to make sure we were all right. Mama quickly invited them in. Feiyel, Rakiya, and Akiva all climbed into the bed as well. It was really quite cramped, but I think we all felt safe sitting there with our shoulders pressed together.

Their mother is doing extremely well for having lost two of her boys. She does seem to adore Daniel especially though because he is only a year younger than Erez was. If only Daniel wasn't so shy and would actually look her in the eye for once. He is content with being in my lap though.

June 17, 1942

Nothing eventful has happened since the Gestapo raised our home, and I am grateful for this. Work has been tedious. The officer who always lingered by Brygid no longer comes around. As a result Brygid's mood seems to have improved, and Elias can "sleep in peace" as he says. He confided in me that the officer's "fascination" with Brygid worried him. He has sworn me not to repeat what he told me to any living soul, but I must put it down somewhere. Elias said he was afraid the officer might try to punish Brygid in a sexual manner if he stayed around much longer. He's never seen it don, but he's heard horror stories. I told him that I actually feared that too. The thought of it is disgusting. Brygid is hardly fourteen!

June 21, 1942

The officers cleared out the building where Daddy used to work today. They cleared out ours as well. The officers looked the large queue of people over and began talking frantically in German to one another. I leaned in close to Elias in hopes that he could catch snatches of what they were saying.

"They're arguing about the amount of us, " he told me. "They want to relocate us, but there are far too many people."

"Since when have they cared about how cramped we are in the cars?" I asked bitterly.

"No, it's not that. There are just too many people. They're saying the train would probably tip over."

"And kill us all. Wouldn't that please them?"

"No. They're not sending us to a death camp, Reina. Just to another ghetto, and they need good strong people who can endure the ride." I clasped Sophie's hand in mine, and we all waited in silence to see what the Germans would do. Their conversation continued for a few more moments, although it seemed like hours to those of us waiting to be told our fate. I knew I couldn't leave Lodz. If Hannah, Sophie and I were all relocated that would leave Mama alone with Daniel. She could never manage.

In the end the officers sorted us into two groups. The group of those who would be relocated was considerably smaller than the other, but it consisted of at least thirty people. Miraculously, my sisters and my friends all managed to avoid relocation along with myself. Sophie was shaking and clinging to my hand throughout the whole ordeal. She feared being separated from me. After we had been sorted out, the officers began marching the smaller group toward the gate. One woman in the group had to leave behind her son. The boy looked no more than ten years old; the same age as Sophie. He let out a cry and tried to go after his mother. Quickly, she turned and caught him by the hands.

"Mummy, I don't want you to leave! Please, don't go!" the boy wailed.

"Don't cry, Elie. Don't cry for Mummy."

"But you're leaving me!"

"Don't think of it that way, my love. Stay with your aunt. Be strong, my son. You will live to see this through." She gave him a kiss, ran a hand through his hair and turned back to the group marching away. The boy watched her go though his breathing became less labored and he seemed calmer.

"The rest of you, get back to your jobs!" the officers shouted as the relocated group disappeared from view. The little boy turned and fled back into the building where he worked. Elias, Brygid, Mikolai, Hannah and I returned to our stations in silence. I'll probably never see that boy again, and I'm quite sure his mother is to die soon. Yet, in a way they have comforted me. I feel almost as if Daddy would have said the same thing.

"You will live to see this through, Reina." Yes, he would have said that.

June 23, 1942

The days are growing hotter. There is no circulation whatsoever in the building. Brygid says it only gets worse, and that it's nearly intolerable from late July through mid-August. Six months ago I would have scolded someone for being so pessimistic. Now I take her advice gladly, knowing that I must brace myself for the heat and humidity that is to come. This is what Hitler and his Germans and this ghetto have done to me. Six months ago I would have prayed for Hitler to realize the error of his ways. Now all I pray is that he rots in despair.

June 23, Later

I told Sophie that I hope Hitler rots. Half a year ago, she would have grinned. Now she rarely smiles, but she did agree with me. While we were talking Hannah came and climbed into the cot. She closed her eyes but sleep would not come. I could tell that she was listening intently to what I was telling Sophie. Sophie and I continued our conversation, thinking of the horrible ways in which Hitler deserves to die. Hannah opened one eye during this talk.

"Hitler is a coward. He will bring about his own end," she said.

"He doesn't seem like a coward to me" Sophie replied. Hannah opened her other eye.

"Why doesn't he seem like a coward to you?" Sophie thought for a moment.

"Because cowards are people who are scared of things. They run and hide and refuse to do anything."

"Hitler is doing that, is he not? He doesn't do his own grisly work. He has the Gestapo do that for him, and then he basks in the glory of it. He hides behind a mask of brutality. He wants to world to fear him and for them to bend to his will. This is not human nature. People are not as subservient as he likes to think. In the end his plan will backfire, and it will destroy him." There was a long silence after this remark. Hannah's hands snaked out from under the sheets, and she extended them towards us. Sophie and I each took one.

"Have faith. Hitler's plan will fail. He will fall, and we will be free. Now come to bed. It's getting late." Sophie climbed into bed, her lips twisting ever so slightly. She wanted to smile at the thought of Hitler's downfall, but it seemed her face had forgotten how to grin. As Hannah moved over and I climbed in next to her, I thought I saw a flicker of doubt in her eyes. We may say that Hitler will fall, but do we believe it?

June 24, 1942

I had Hannah tell Mikolai, Brygid and Elias what she said about Hitler. She was reluctant to do so, but she seemed to perk up rather noticeable when Mikolai got excited at the mention of Hitler's downfall and kissed her. Brygid was not thrilled.

June 26, 1942

Ever since the relocation last week, more officers have been loitering around our work place. Thankfully, the one who pestered Brygid is not among them. This time they seemed interested in Mikolai. They huddle together and talk amongst themselves whenever he passes by. It reminds me of a group of schoolgirls who begin to whisper and giggle when a boy they fancy walks near them. Hannah is finds this whole thing very unnerving. She often stays behind with Mikolai even after our shifts are over to make sure he is safe. I can't see any reason as to why they'd be interested in Mikolai. He is rather tall, perhaps they feel threatened by him. Or maybe they want to challenge him to prove their "manliness". I can only hope that I'm very wrong either way.

June 30, 1942

It rained today which was a welcome relief from the heat. Our apartment is obviously not in good shape so Hannah and Sophie had to place any spare cups we had on the floor to catch the leaking water. It made dinner almost melodic. The drops would fall in rhythm, one after the other. It sounded like the child's song Wio Koniku. Daniel seemed to think along the same lines, and he started singing in the middle of supper.

Wio koniku a jak sie postarasz

na kolacje zajedziemy akurat

Tobie owsa nasypiemy zaraz,

a ja smaczna zupke bede sobie jadl.

Mama used to sing that to us when she bounced us on her knee as babies. Daniel's musical outbreak made Sophie giggle when in turn made me laugh and then Hannah. Mama's face broke into a grin which for some strange reason only made us laugh harder. It took us a long time to finish eating because one of us would randomly start to snicker, and that would set everyone else off. Tonight reminded me of home. At bedtime, when Hannah, Sophie and I were little Daddy would come tuck us in and tickle us till we could hardly breathe. Sophie was only two when he did this, but she claims she remembers it quite vividly. I wish life could go back to the way it was, but I know that it can't. Yet I think God sent the rain to give us a little taste of home.