The Redhead of Auschwitz. A True Story

by Nechama Birnbaum

She has a big smile on her face but thank goodness she does not act shy like my other aunts did when they met us after they got engaged.

There are several references to relatives acting different to the girls after marriage or an engagement. I wonder why.

“The whole purpose of this world really is for the next world, you know. This world is the corridor, before the palace. We are supposed to prepare ourselves in the corridor, so we can enjoy the palace. It is what our sages taught us. The next world is for eternity; this world is so fleeting.”

I love the way a whole life was sucked into the letters and when I read them, the story pushes itself from the letters on the page, up into the air, and into my head.

He is the father I didn’t have, the sun of my world, he is the deepest love I have ever known.

Everyone cries but I cry from the deepest part inside of me. It is as if I have been gutted open and every part of my soul heaves out in pain.

After the seven days of mourning, everyone goes home. We go back to our regular life, but it is like we are pretending. I feel flat and empty.

Zaidy—and I wonder why I am the one to be found right here, listening to the world sing its sweet song.

Even though I have no answers—and sometimes the sadness in my heart feels like it will pull me down and bury me—I still feel a strange and beautiful peace in where I am right now, and I know that everything is going to be okay.

I look down at my arm. A-13488. They are small and perfect.