Kedma

Before the war, my whole family lived in Lodz.

- What became of them? - I don't know.

Maybe they died during the ghetto revolt.

My mother's last letter dates from one month before it.

I have no idea.

May your return be peaceful Little bird

You who are returning from the warm country

Do you know how your voice moved me

When in winter you left my home

Sing, tell me, my beloved bird

of that faraway land and all its wonders

Tell me if in that warm, beautiful country

Pain and grief reign as they do here

Are the dewdrops on Mount Hermon

More like pearls or like tears

How are the dear waters of the Jordan river

And how are the hills and the vales

And my brothers who sow tearfully

Do they reap a joyful harvest

Oh, if I had wings, I could fly

To the land of dates and almonds

Rosa was my student.

My father and I,

we volunteered in 1939,

but he died in Mauthausen.

I was saved. After the war, I went to Sosnowiec.

The neighbors told me that in 1939, in late winter,

they were all taken away, no one knows where to.

Rosa was lucky.

She was sent to Siberia.

To Siberia? How did she survive?

Do you speak Russian?

Yes, some.

With Rosa you have to speak Russian.

How were you able to survive in Siberia?

Now I almost miss the snow-clad mountains,

the winter, the vast forests, the snowstorms.

Here it's always warm.

- Now it's cold. - Right now, yes.

I never thought I'd be so cold here!

But we'll manage.

Come with me!

You four get behind those bushes.

Ygal...

hold this position over here. Where are you going?

The British! Quick, get your bags on the trucks!

Klibanov, I'm talking to you!

Take these people to the kibbutz.

But there are others! We have to wait for them!

No, we'll all get caught.

- Did you see Rosa get off the ship? - Don't leave. There's more.

We'll meet in the Farunkel.

What are you doing? Let's go! Move!

- What about her? - Take her.

Mussa, take her!

Forward! Hurry up!

Come, follow me!

The British are coming!

Everything all right?

I'm exhausted.

- You have any water? - No.

- Have you seen Janusz? - No. Have you?

The last time I saw him was on the beach.

Then everything got all confused.

Got any food left? Nothing?

My suitcase got left on the beach.

- Everything? - Yes. Food and all.

- You know where they're taking us? - No.

- So what now? - I don't know.

They'll have a place to put us up.

Mussa!

Wait for us!

I want to cry

I want my tears to reach the whole world

To cry over my fate and the fire of my people

Flow, O my tears, on those who left

Without even being able to say good-bye

Dad is petrified. Mama is crying.

They hold me tightly: "Don't leave! Don't leave us!"

A real Jewish mother.

And my little brother Elinke says to me,

"I'll go with you. I'll watch over you."

He wants to watch over me and my sister.

Dad drags me away from them. I have to flee that place.

No time to waste. Night is falling. It's Chavuot.

I leave the house. They all come with me.

I leave and reach the tram line.

They head back home.

I never saw them again.

I jump in the tram and grab a handle.

Incredibly, I don't fall off.

The driver opens the door for me, and I collapse inside.

He says to me, "Get under the bench!"

I do what he says. Under the bench.

We reach the gate that separates the Aryan-goy side

from the agonizing ghetto.

I see a German soldier get on. He asks the driver

if he saw anyone board or jump on the tram.

The man answers, "I saw nothing. I know nothing."

From below, I see his boots.

He passes, passes again, and again...

He's gone.

We go over to the Aryan side. It's another world!

Kids go to school. The goyim are well-dressed.

I don't understand. Are we on the same planet? No!

I'm amazed. People seem to notice me.

I'm astonished. I sense that people look at me.

If he'd turned me in to the Germans,

he'd have gotten four pounds of sugar and a quart of vodka.

They got paid for that, you know?

I jumped over the wall and landed in a big hole.

I prayed and told myself: I'm past the first obstacle.

Now I've made it.

Suddenly, a Pole comes over and asks, "Are you a Jew?"

I tell him, "No, I'm a Pole like you."

He says to me, "Don't lie. I can tell a Jew a mile away.

Give me all your money, then we'll go to the Gestapo."

"I have very little left." He says, "Give it to me anyway."

I gave it all to him, money, gold, everything.

Despite that he says, "Good, now we'll go to the police."

I cried and begged him: "I want to live!"

He took pity on me and let me go.

But I was caught.

Three policemen finally got me under the bridge.

They took me to the station,

where four Gestapo men sat eating apples.

They stared at me like I was a target - "Why are you standing up?"

I told them, "That way I'll be easier to shoot. A good target."

They said, "You can't be normal."

I told them, "I'm normal. I want to live.

I didn't kill anyone or steal anything. I want to live, like you."

They told me, "Leaving the ghetto is punishable by death.

A bullet in the head."

But one of them, an officer, said,

"You've got typhus. We won't kill you.

You can go back to the ghetto, where you'll die anyway."

Then there was the revolt, the sewers, the forest.

End of my story.

It took some time. These people are tired, worn out.

I hope you're not angry, Mussa.

No, but take them to the kibbutz. I've got my own load to carry.

All right.

Maybe you can take him.

What does he do?

What does he do? Your profession?

What can you do?

- I'm a cantor. - A what?

- He sings. - Oh, a cantor!

Why don't you sing us something?

- Sing. - All right.

He sings well.

Hold on, my friend!

We're not in a synagogue. Something more cheerful.

A Purim song!

Thanks.

Tell him to stop.

You don't stop working.

What you don't do will never be done.

Aren't you cold?

Cold? A little.

Milek, call Ygal. We're moving on.

We'll break camp.

I'll go on ahead.

Bye, lsha.

We'll wait a bit.

Jerusalem...

Jerusalem is to the east.

That's west... south...

north... How do you say north?

Sorry it happened this way,

but that's how it is.

Can't be helped.

We'll wait a bit for the others.

If they don't come, I'll take you.

They're going to Jerusalem. It's under siege.

- What's "under siege"? - A blockade.

There's no food.

You'll come with me to the kibbutz. There you can rest.

What's a kibbutz?

Kibbutz. Commune. Socialism.

We're all building a country together.

Don't worry, young lady.

If you're a cantor, why don't you have a beard?

Even as a child,

I felt I was leading a double life.

He lived a double life.

I felt capable of doing lots of things,

but religious life kept me from them.

He felt he was gifted, but religion blocked him.

We're all from religious and kosher homes,

but thank God, we got rid of religion.

I don't understand. If God loves us so much,

where was he when they were killing us in the camps?

Seeing what religion did in Europe, where was God?

- Was he on vacation? - You don't understand.

Now I have no father or mother.

Thanks.

Some candy.

I can't go on living like this.

We'll be all right.