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Dear Mutti

Part Tnree

By Emery PinePublished 2 years ago 3 min read
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Dear Mutti
Photo by Richard Horne on Unsplash

Thursday, October 21, 1937

Dear Mutti,

I’m with Walther and Peter currently. They are in their room napping, so I have nothing to do but write you a new letter since it’s been a couple of weeks.

Ruth has been doing well. She’s always such a happy little thing. I’m envious of her, if I am being honest with you. She is oblivious to the struggles our family is facing or the threat to her safety— because there is a threat— there has been a lot of unrest in Germany over the last few years, but something is changing— I can feel it. Something big is going to happen soon, and I am scared that it will involve my darling Ruth and Eitan. I cannot bare to see anything happen to them. They are all I have left in this world worth living for. I wish you were here, Mama. I miss you dearly, and it pains my heart to know I will never see your smile again. But, maybe it is for the best you are not here to see the hatred running rampant through our nation these past years.

Our other neighbors, Mrs. and Mr. Deska were taken from their home and moved to one of the ghettos on the outside of the city yesterday evening. Miryam, their nine year old little girl, went kicking and screaming. Mrs. and Mr. Deska tried to soothe her, but she was inconsolable. One of the Nazi officers ended up grabbing her by the hair and dragging her away. Mrs. Deska just screamed and cried while her husband rushed forward and tried grabbing Miryam away from the officer. He backhanded Mr. Deska and knocked him to the ground and yelled at him to mind his business or he would be arrested.

I was going to go help the Deska’s yesterday evening when the Nazis came. I couldn’t just sit by while they took our friends away. Then, when that man grabbed Miryam’s hair and Mrs. Deska just cried and screamed and Mr. Deska was knocked to the ground, I had to help. I was so stunned that one of our authority figures would be so cruel to a citizen. I was stunned that he would lay his hands on a young girl and yank her by her hair. I needed so badly to go outside and help, but when I was about to grab the door handle, Eitan was there, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me away. He was saying, “No, Ema. We can’t help. We can’t do anything. They’ll come for me and Ruth next if we help.” He was crying when he said it. I know because I could hear it in his voice and when I stopped fighting him and turned around, I could see the agony in his eyes. I knew it killed him to stand by as our friends were so violated and then taken away, but he was right— they would surely take away my little Ruthie and husband next if I went out there, and this made me curl up on the ground and cry for an hour out of fear and grief.

I went out to the ghetto today to bring the Deska family some food and blankets since they were forced out of their house with nothing but a single bag. When I got there, though, the man guarding the entrance to the neighborhood told me I wasn’t allowed in because of my German status. So I asked him to give the Deska’s the food and blankets for me. He looked confused when I said their family name. He said he didn’t know who I was referring to, but that I needed to leave and go back home. On my way back home, I stopped by the market to ask around if anyone had seen my neighbors. Everyone claimed they didn’t know, that they haven’t seen the family since their last trip into the market three days ago. I have my doubts and suspicions. I don’t necessarily think everyone is lying to me, but something is certainly not right. They must’ve taken the Deska family to a different ghetto after the incident with Miryam, but that wouldn’t explain everyone’s rushed responses in town, their downcast eyes. Perhaps everyone is just on edge these days.

Love,

Ema

Historical
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About the Creator

Emery Pine

I’m a poet with sprinklings of fiction. I write with the soul, so I hope you find it interesting and relatable

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