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A World for a World

As told to Rayzel Reich, by her grandmother Mrs. Jenia Reich

One who keeps a Jewish soul alive is considered to have sustained an entire world (Sanhedrin 37a)

Wednesday, January 04, 2012

Tattu lifts himself from his crouch, his wiry body all motion. “I am going now. I must go out of the ghetto but I will come back.” He looks at us, a short, hard, look, that is somehow long.

“I will get you out.”

Then Tattu is climbing down the pile of mattresses, and sliding them back in place. He is gone.

Tattu leaves the courtyard and walks through the ghetto streets. He comes out of a street on the other side, and heads straight for the guarded gates. No one stops him — not the German police, or the Polish police, or the Jewish police — they can all see the badge on his shirt, the big numbers that show that he is a Worker. They let him pass through the gate, and they watch as he enters the warehouse across the street. Tattu enters the house and closes the door behind him. Now he is among Jews. Only Jews.

He looks around until he sees Adela.

“Adela!” he calls and hurries over to her. She looks up from her work.

Adela is sorting shirts. White shirts, yellow shirts, brown shirts. All in one big, messy, pile, being sorted into neat, orderly, piles. Jewish shirts.



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