By Fred Rothzeid

She did not talk about it

What the teenage girl was thinking

In that time of madness

As horror became the norm

The world of family and friends

Who loved and welcomed her was lost

To bombs, gas, bullets and starvation

Disappearing into a then nameless void

How did she feel about her good fortune

For in the perverse accounting of the time

She had survived

While those around her perished

The journey home was not a homecoming

That world had adjusted to her absence

Making her an unwanted reminder

She would not be allowed to become an inconvenience

And always there was necessity

So much to be done

To live with little time to mourn

To plan and not dwell upon the past

And yet she persevered

Against the forces of despair

She created a life in Poland

And then in the United States

My wife’s mother died recently

As nature would have it

But near the end of a long life

She chose not to remain silent

And the world gained another voice

So that her children’s children would remember

When she could no longer be there

A survivor and witness to the horror

A testament to the spirit that endures