We finally arrived at another concentration camp and stepped through a metal gate under the sign “Bergen Belsen.” My heart was in my throat. This was a place where I had heard many Jews were killed. But just when I felt I could not survive another day, I had a sudden jolt of happiness. I recognized a girl from my hometown! Her name was Helen Wilder. I will never forget her name. I went to school with her older brother. With a new sense of strength, I ran over to her. She stared at me, afraid, as if thinking, “Who is this madman screaming at me?” Finally, after a long hard look, her face softened.
“You have two sisters here,” Helen said, “Cesia and Lola.”
For the first time in years, I managed to smile.
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