KADDISHEL
A Life Reborn
tall as I was. Someone there was a kosher butcher, and he made the brucha (blessing) to make it kosher and slaughtered it. It made a lot of meat. My father invited anyone who had survived to come. The room was only big enough for eight or ten people, and there were maybe fifty there, peeling potatoes, making soup, and so on. We had some siddurim (prayer books), too, which my father had managed to get. My father, who was a very religious man, was praying loudly, begging that we be spared, and crying, bending and praying and crying. That was the autumn of 1943. We stayed there for another winter.”
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