October 1943
Dear Mama and Abba,
It has been so long since I’ve received a letter from you, and I know that the silence must be just as hard for you to bear in America as it is for me here in Hungary. Every time I look at my little daughter and I try to imagine being separated from her, not knowing if she is well or if she is suffering, I understand how you must feel. And so after much prayer, I have decided that I must write this letter to you and trust that Hashem will allow you to receive it in America someday.
I have made friends with the minister of the Christian church here in our village. He is a very kind man, and I plan to give him this letter and ask him to mail it to you after the war ends. The rumors that we hear about this war and what the Nazis are doing to our people are terrifying. And if anything should happen to us – Hashem forbid – you will at least know something of our story.
When Germany invaded Poland five years ago, many Jewish refugees fled here to Hungary and to our village to escape from the Nazis. We crowded as many as we could into the Yeshiva and into our homes. These survivors told us that the Nazis are trying to kill all of the Jewish people – not thousands of us, but millions. Hitler is a modern-day version of Haman, Queen Esther’s enemy from the Scriptures. He wants every last one of us dead. I’m not sure if the world knows this truth yet, but if they do, it seems as though no one is doing anything about it.
In July of 1941, the Germans began to put pressure on the Hungarian government to arrest all of their enemies, which included the Jews. To appease their ally, Hungary rounded up all the Polish Jews who had sought refuge here and deported them. In a village as small as ours, there was no place to hide and not enough time to escape. They were taken back to Poland, and we fear the worst for them.
I have asked the rabbi why our people are experiencing this great suffering. Was it for some great sin we have committed? What have we done to bring this upon ourselves? He believes that it is not because of sin that we are persecuted but because of the Torah. The Hamans of this world want to wipe out all memory of our people and of our covenant with Hashem, as well as all memory of His Law so that evil can flourish unfettered. In the time of Queen Esther, Haman sought to destroy our people because we would bow only to Hashem, not to him. In Daniel’s time, the three faithful Jews were thrown into the fiery furnace because they would not bow to a golden statue. But like Joseph, who was sold into slavery in Egypt, we must trust and believe that what our enemies intend for evil, Hashem will turn into good. As the prophet Habakkuk has written: “Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in Hashem my Savior.”
After our Polish friends were taken away, we were left to live in peace for a time. But two weeks ago, suddenly and unexpectedly, the soldiers burst into our shul on Shabbat and took all of the able-bodied men away to work in forced labor gangs. The only reason I am able to write this is because I was at home in bed when they came, struck ill with a terrible fever and pneumonia. In fact, I nearly died. I didn’t understand at the time why Hashem had allowed me to suffer such a serious illness, but now I see that it was His way of sparing me when all the other men, including Sarah Rivkah’s father and brothers, were taken away.
Two years ago when the first wave of forced labor conscription took place, we had no idea what it meant. Now we do. The “lucky” ones will be put to work inside factories all day – factories that are the targets of Allied bombs. Others will be forced to mine the raw materials needed for the war or to work in gangs repairing and building roads and railroads. In other words, they are slaves. No one has returned home except to die. The government won’t feed men who have become too weak or too sick to work, and so they are sent home to die.
Now that I am no longer ill, I live in fear that they will come back to conscript me. After much prayer, I have decided that Sarah Rivkah, Fredeleh, and I must leave the village. It’s too difficult for me to hide here, and except for my Christian friend and his wife, I don’t know which of our Hungarian neighbors I can trust. I have tried to convince our families to join us – Abba’s brother Yehuda, Mama’s family, Sarah’s family. I have begged them all to come to Budapest with us. It is easier to hide in a big city, I tell them. But they all say, “What about food? How will we live? The whole country is suffering from shortages and famine. At least we can grow our own food, raise our own chickens in the country.”
Everyone believes they are safer here in the provinces. No one will listen to me except for Sarah’s mother. And so tomorrow I will take her and my wife and daughter to Budapest to stay with Abba’s brother Baruch, if he will have us.
I love you, Mama and Abba. And I am hoping that even if the worst happens to us, you will receive this letter one day. I place all of my trust in Hashem, who is able to keep us in His care.
Love always,
Avraham