The other day

I lived in Germany my whole life. Never once did I ask for anything. When my family and I heard that the war was starting up, we tried to escape. We were so close. My parents and I went to America but unpleasantly my sister was taken away by the Nazis. They knew she was Jewish, they saw the fear in her eyes. I didn't want to leave my sister behind, but that was the only choice. She told us to leave, and we did. Later did we find out that my sister, Lidia, was taken to Auschwitz. We were so nervous to hear that. She was a strong girl though, we had faith. I prayed every day for her. As I walked down the golden street of New York City, free and alive, I thought about my sister. I thought about the horror she must have been going through. I felt terrible. Well what was I to do? I protested, i wrote letters, I tried to persuade the gorvernment to help out. Nobody seemed to know about what was happening. They knew about the war, yes, but not about the discrimination. Later had I found out that she survived. At that moment though, I was scared out of my mind for her. 5 years later, when the war was just ending, I wondered, was she still alive? Could she have possibly survived this war? I walked to work one day, in the summer of 1947. I stopped in front of the building to find a young woman, about 27 years old, standing in front of the door. Looking very confused, I asked her why she wasn't going in. She started to speak in German. I understood of course because I was from Germany originally. She told me that she was looking for a Ruth Lebowitz. Well by then I had changed my last name from Lebowitz to Lebo. I knew what she was talking about though. I told her that I was Ruth and she showed her affection with a hug. I was very confused but later I found out that she was my sister, Lidia.