Gerda Weissmann Klein

Survivor

 

Hi, my name is Lexie Small, and I became a witness to Gerda Klein’s story.  I chose to share her story in her own words because only a survivor can truly understand the horrors of the Holocaust.  The ‘found’ poem below describes Gerda’s experiences before, during, and after the Holocaust in thoughts and spoken words found primarily in her book All But My Life, and in several news reports, youtube documentaries, broadcasted video conferences, and speeches.   I submitted this poem for possible publication in the interdisciplinary Holocaust journal Prism.  I developed a strong connection to Gerda, her beliefs and profound patriotism and her spirit throughout my research.  The quotes in the poem below show pivotal moments in her life and eloquent realizations that stood out to me and made me identify with Gerda.  I hope that this poem urges you to research Gerda’s story in more detail and, most importantly, share her story, her mission, and her awareness that hatred still continues today.  

 

 

An Ode to Gerda Weissmann Klein: Her Words, Her Story

This “found” poem is a compilation of direct quotes spoken by Gerda Weissmann Klein.

 

The sun shone so brightly in my room.

The fall flowers in our garden were in full bloom.

 

Everybody seemed cheerful.  Papa was joking.  Mama joined in this seemingly carefree banter.

 

The drunken,  jubilant mob was still celebrating its ‘liberation’ and hoarsely shouting ‘Heil

Hitler.’

 

Several Jews had been rounded up in the streets, locked in the Temple, and the Temple set on

fire.

 

Krakow fell, then Warsaw, and the Germans still advanced without opposition.

 

Boys and men, many of whom we knew, stood in line, registered, got numbers.

 

But papa, skiing shoes in June?

 

SS men digging greedily into the gold. Digging into people’s love and pledges. . . .

 

I guess we all knew that this was going to be the first step to the end of the road, either to liberation or to — to doom.

 

Let’s bet a quart of strawberries and whipped cream, payable after the war. . .

 

I had created a happy world of make-believe around me during the long years of loneliness, a world of beauty and love.  It had helped me to survive, this lovely world that was to be mine when the war was over.

 

He said I could make him happy.  Then I understood the cause of my sadness.  I didn’t want to make anybody happy.  I wanted someone to make me happy.

 

I only knew that she was going to meet her death.  She looked at me, perhaps wondering about the past, and I looked at her wondering about the future.

 

If I accepted freedom now, I would have to marry Abek.

 

The world seemed to be awaiting Judgement day.

 

I do believe that it is 95 percent of luck, to be at the right moment at the right time, you know when selection came, you, you, you know.

 

I looked back at the fence that I had clutched so many times in desperate prayer.  It did not look so confining now.

She used her whip and profanity as if they were the only language we could understand.  

 

I knew now what the supervisor meant when he said ‘You will be sorry.’

 

Papa had turned me, grasping my neck, forcing me to promise that I would never give up.  Strange that my neck should trouble me now, when death seemed the only solution!

 

I pray you never stand at any crossroads in your own lives, but if you do, if the darkness seems so total, if you think there is no way out, remember, never ever give up. The darker the night, the brighter the dawn, and when it gets really, really dark, this is when one sees the true brilliance of the stars.

 

Flax dust, coal dust, blood, sweat, all mixed together into a crust that covered my body.

 

I’m glad I didn’t jump.

 

I would have been amused had I not been sobered by the thought that our lives were in the hands of this moron.

 

Forcibly sterilized.

Someday I must have a baby of my own.

 

I saw the frozen earth thrown onto her. That was Lotte.  I cannot help but want to tell her story, for I might be the only one left in the world who knows it.

 

My eyes remained dry.  I felt my features turn stony. Now I have to live because I am alone and nothing can hurt me anymore.

 

Survival is both an exalted privilege and a painful burden.

 

He saw a lady and I shall be forever grateful to him for his graciousness.

 

I could have embraced him but I was aware how dirty and repulsive I must be.

 

I had reached the summit, as I had dreamed I would in the dark years of slavery, and there, beyond the sphere of human vision, we met and embraced. We would never be alone again.

 

My experience has taught me that all of us have a reservoir of untapped strength that comes to

the fore at moments of crisis.

 

As I finish the last chapter of my book, I feel at peace, at last.  I have discharged a burden, and paid a debt to many nameless heroes, resting in their unmarked graves.  For I am haunted by the thought that I might be the only one left to tell their story.  Happy in my new life, I have penned the last sentence of the past.  I have written my story, with tears and with love, in the hope that my children, safely asleep in their cribs, should not awake from a nightmare and find it to be reality.

 

I have been in a place for six incredible years, where winning meant a crust of bread and to live another day …. In my mind's eye I see those years and faces of those who never knew the magic of a boring evening at home…. Each of you who knows the joy of freedom is a winner.

 

And I think what was probably the worst is, when it was over, there was nothing there. In my case, I met my beloved husband at the very moment of liberation, and my life took a different turn. And I could credit him with everything.

 

I just think the Holocaust should be used as a beacon to show of what hatred and intolerance and all those things which have led to so much pain all over the world is capable.