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She was a hero.

Strange where something like a broken dryer can lead…

A young repairman came to our house yesterday to help with said dryer. My husband happened to mention my work to him, and the young man said, “Let me tell you about my grandmother.”

It seems she was one of seven kids in her Polish family. They were rounded up and taken to Auschwitz, where every other member of her family was murdered. She was spared because she could sew, and she spent two years sewing German uniforms using human hair as thread. Ultimately, she was liberated and emigrated to Israel – a young girl, alone, half-starved, traumatized beyond our comprehension, but carrying inside her that tiny spark, that indomitable will to survive.

Today her grandson works hard, makes a good living, and keeps close his grandmother’s story. He told me he thinks of her often when he is tired, irritated, feeling himself overworked and underpaid, and gratitude silently takes over. Just in case he needed to hear it out loud… I told him his grandmother was a hero️.

We are not now what we once were…

but what we are, we are…

made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.



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