World War II Jews Diary
Dearest Diary,
Mother bought me this diary for my birthday today. She says to write everything down, for someday when we are gone, someone will pick it up and read it, and then they will understand what my family and I are going through. And what a lot we are going through indeed!
My name is Esther Cohen. I am 11 years old, and I am a Jew. Most people would say that statement with shame, but I say it with pride. Father says there’s nothing to be ashamed of, yet still our land frowns upon Jews.
We used to live in a well working home. We had water and food, and there were enough resources for our family to get by. But last week, Germans took us to a ghetto. They make us wear armbands with our beautiful star on it, as a symbol to show that we are Jews. Filthy, disgusting Jews. I try not to let it get to me, but I feel such hate towards Hitler and his fellow Germans. Why would they want to sabotage our religion?
We have only been in the ghetto for a week now, but the conditions are terrible. We live in a small apartment with several other families. Our plumbing system broke down 4 days ago, and now we throw our waste out into the streets with the garbage. Luckily, it is not winter yet, but we still shiver in our thin clothes at night. The German officers overseeing our conditions feed us little bread and potatoes. Mother and Father urge me and Nora (my little sister, who is 8) to eat as much as we can, and they sometimes even give us their share of food on hard days. Sometimes the Germans decide not to feed us at all. Those are the days when there is little hope. Someone usually rests one of those days. They moan and cry and pray, and then they never wake back up.
A few days ago, however, the German officers did not feed us, yet we still ate! How did we eat? Well you see diary, smugglers got into the ghetto, undetected, carrying blankets, potatoes, and bread. Oh, so much bread! Of course, all the families had to share, but many of the elderly gave their share of bread to the younger ones.
Sadly, we were the only lucky group of families. Two other groups were found with extra food, and they were punished harshly. Many of the men were killed right there, and the women and children were taken to labor camps. Oh, my heart aches for those families, separated and killed and forced to work. I suppose the smugglers got away, but they never have come back, perhaps because that was all the resources they had or perhaps because they are too scared to come back.
There aren’t many other children in our ghetto except Nora and I. We try to occupy ourselves as best we can, but it is very hard sometimes. With little pieces of cloth, we use them to tie our hair up, and we pretend we are rich folk at the hair salon. In fact, by now my hair goes down all the way to my waist! With sticks we make little houses and we try to build them as tall as they can go. Sometimes when we are feeling rather rebellious, we sneak away to the east end of the front gate where none of the guards ever go, and we collect the cigarette boxes from the officers. They never catch us, and we never tell Mother or Father, so it all works out fine.
Nora often complains to Mother and Father of her grumbling stomach or her tattered clothes. I whine about how everything smells all the time, and how there is no privacy whatsoever. Mother and Father give us a good scolding for our attitude, and then tell us of the even poorer conditions others may be living in. I am always shocked by that fact. How could other Jews be living worse than this, I ask Mother. She responds that perhaps the children lost both their parents, and are left to beg for food scraps. Perhaps the family is split apart and are forced to work on top of everything, Father adds.
I never did truly believe them until this morning. Just as I was waking up, I heard screams in the other ghetto. I scurried to see, as did everyone in our ghetto. Germans had a mother, a father, and a little boy restrained, and they began moving them away from the ghetto. “We are taking them to a labor camp because of their shameful actions!” the German officer shouted warningly. “This will happen to every one of you Jews!” People in the ghettos did not answer, for they could say the wrong thing and be escorted onto the same train as that family, towards the camps.
After that, many rumors spread about what Hitler might be planning next. As I write, Mother and Father are huddled together with the other elders, sobbing and speaking in hushed voices. Nora and I heard them mention something of extermination camps, and then we turned away so we could hear no longer.
I do hope that someone finds this diary and knows what us Jews went through. I hope those in the future understand how terrible the Germans were to our religion and our people. And yet through all the Germans actions, I still stand proud of myself for being a Jew.
Sincerely,
Esther Cohen