And...Who Is the Real Mother Read online




  AND…WHO IS THE

  REAL MOTHER?

  Copyright © 2018 by Roberta Kagan

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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  Dear Readers,

  After I published “You Are My Sunshine,” I received many emails from readers asking me what happened to Eidel, Zofia’s daughter. Their emails inspired me, and so I began by writing a single book about Eidel’s story. It is called “And…Who is the Real Mother.” However, this book begins where “You Are My Sunshine,” leaves off, when Eidel was smuggled out of the ghetto and dropped off at the home of Zofia’s friend Helen Dobinsky. In fact when you start reading “And Who is the Real Mother, you may think that you’ve read it before because the prologue is the same exactly as the scene from “You Are My, Sunshine. (By the way, those of you who have read several of my books will recognized Karl Abdenstern, from the Warsaw Ghetto. If you remember, in All My Love, Detrick, Karl was imprisoned in the Warsaw Ghetto where he worked in the black market. He was the man who helped Zofia to get Eidel out.)

  As Eidel grew up her story grew richer and before I knew it, I had written an entire series about her life and the life of those she loved. The series is called “I Am Proud To Be A Jew.” It is filled with characters who are close to my heart because many of them are molded after my own family and family friends I knew growing up.

  Thank you so much for reading my work. Your loyal support is what keeps me going. I send all of you many blessing and much love.

  Shalom,

  Roberta

  DISCLAIMER

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty- Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  More Books by the Author

  PROLOGUE

  Warsaw, Poland

  Zofia Weiss’ fingers reached up to her neck to caress the Star of David that she wore. Her newborn baby girl was asleep in her arms. This was the first time Zofia had ever held her little girl. She had carried this child inside of her body for nine months. And for nine months she’d wondered what this moment would feel like. Would her baby be a boy or girl? What would the child look like? But now, the baby was here, right here with her soft head resting on Zofia’s breast. Her daughter, Eidel.

  When my precious child is older, I will give this necklace to her, Zofia thought. It was my father’s last gift to me before he died. And someday, it will be my gift to her. Then, God willing, she will pass it down to her own child.

  “My baby, my own little girl,” Zofia said, kissing the child’s cheek. Then carefully, Zofia removed the blanket that the baby was wrapped in and counted the child’s fingers and toes.

  “Look at her. She is so perfect,” Zofia said to Fruma and Gitel, the two kind, older women who had taken her in when her mother threw her out for getting pregnant out of wedlock. Fruma was an expert seamstress; she’d been kind enough to give Zofia an apprenticeship when the rest of the town had turned its back on her. Gitel was Fruma’s long-time lesbian lover.

  “Yes, she is absolutely perfect, isn’t she?” Fruma smiled.

  “It’s hard to believe but I don’t even care about her father breaking my heart anymore. I am just so happy to have her,” Zofia said.

  “What will you name her?”

  “Eidel,” Zofia whispered, looking into the face of the tiny infant. “Eidel for my father. His name was Eli.”

  “It’s a beautiful name. It means gentle,” Fruma said.

  “Can I hold her?’ Gitel asked.

  “Of course you can. This is such a happy day, but I wish my mother were here to see it,” Zofia said. “She wanted no part of her granddaughter. She hated me so much she killed herself because of the shame I caused her. I will always feel guilty about my mother.”

  “Don’t think like that,” Fruma said. “She didn’t kill herself because of you. She missed your father. You knew she miserable after his death. Don’t blame yourself.”

  “It’s hard not to. Both of my parents are gone. I am an orphan and my Eidel has no family.”

  Gitel held the baby carefully in her arms.

  “She has two grandmothers. Fruma and I.”

  “Yes, and I am blessed for that, for sure,” Zofia smiled, but tears were in her eyes.

  Eidel, Zofia’s daughter, was born in 1938 to her single mother. A scandal. People were outraged in the small Jewish community on the outskirts of Warsaw. But Fruma and Gitel didn’t care. Because they were lesbians, these two women had endured living on the edge of society since they’d moved in together. They were the only people who had been warm and understanding when they found out about Zofia’s predicament. And so it was that Eidel, the precious little girl, was not only loved by her mother but was worshiped by two kind and adoring grandmothers, Gitel and Fruma.

  Despite the joy the child brought, life was not easy. Hitler had promised not to attack Poland, but by 1939 Germany rained bombs upon Warsaw. The once beautiful and peaceful capital city was now in ruins. It was the first step towards a Nazi conquest of Poland, as planned together with the Soviet leadership. The Führer was determined to destroy anything that reflected Polish culture. The Nazis were hell-bent on creating a Jew-free Europe. And so the little world of Zofia and Eidel, Fruma and Gitel was turned upside down.

  The more they heard about what was happening in the heart of Warsaw, the more anxious the women became. Everyday brought news of disturbing developments. The ghetto, officially the Jewish Residential District in Warsaw, was established in the Muranów neighborhood of the city at the end of 1940, within the new General Government territory of German-occupied Poland. A year earlier, the Jewish Council, the Judenrat, was formed when the Nazis appointed twenty-four prominent Jews who would be responsible for carrying out German orders.

  The persecution began soon thereafter. The imposition of Jewish forced labour began, first to clear the rubble from bomb damage and then to perform similar tasks. Bank accounts of Polish Jews with balances of more than two thousand złoty were block
ed. Before 1940 rolled around, all Jewish establishments had been ordered to display a Star of David on their doors and windows. By year’s end 1939, all Jews were forbidden from using the buses and trams of public transport.

  The ghetto-wall construction started in the spring of 1940, circling the area of Warsaw already inhabited predominantly by Jews. The work was supervised by the Judenrat, who helped the Nazi authorities with the expulsion of 113,000 ethnic Poles from the neighborhood and the relocation of 138,000 Warsaw Jews from the suburbs into the city centre. The Germans closed the Warsaw Ghetto to the outside world in November of 1940. The wall around it was almost ten feet high and was topped with barbed wire. Zofia, Fruma and Gitel had heard that escapees were shot on sight.

  One evening as the three women were feeding Eidel her dinner, there was a knock on the door. Three Gestapo agents with long leather coats and harsh frightening voices were rounding up all of the Jews in the sector where Zofia and her two friends lived.

  “Mach schnell, you have five minutes to be ready to go. Pack what you will need.”

  Gitel tried to protest. “We are not going anywhere. This is our home. You have no right.”

  One of the Gestapo agents hit her across the face with the butt of his gun. Her nose spurted blood. Fruma picked up a rag and gave it to Gitel.

  “Mach schnell, I said!” The man raised his gun to hit Gitel again.

  “We will hurry.” Fruma took Gitel’s hand. “Come on. Let’s all do as he says. You too, Zofia.”

  The baby had started to wail.

  “Shut her up, or I’ll shoot her,” the Nazi said.

  Zofia grabbed Eidel and ran into the bedroom to pack. Fruma, who had always had a way with the child, turned to Gitel. “Keep packing, I have to help Zofia to quiet Eidel. I am afraid that the Nazi will shoot the baby. Are you all right to pack by yourself?”

  “Yes, I will be fine. Go and help Zofia, Fruma.”

  Fruma ran into Zofia’s room and took Eidel from her mother’s arms. “Pack, Zofia. I will take care of her.”

  Zofia nodded, then began tossing things into a suitcase. The tension in the house caused the child to let out a piercing scream. The sound was unnerving. For an instant, it felt as if the scream had caused the world to stand still. Fruma and Zofia’s eyes met in fear. They knew that the Nazi would think nothing of shooting the baby. “Shhh,” Fruma whispered in Eidel’s ear, still looking at Zofia. “Shhh, please God, help us to keep her quiet,” she whispered as she pulled Eidel close to her chest and began rocking the baby. Fruma sang softly in Yiddish, her voice cracking with every word. Eidel was red faced and the small strands of her baby hair stuck to her head with sweat, but Fruma was finally able to quiet the child.

  The three women and the baby were herded into the back of a truck. Zofia saw the fresh blood seeping into Gitel’s shirt and felt as if she might faint.

  As in all Nazi ghettos across occupied Poland, the Germans assigned the internal administration to a Judenrat headed by an Ältester, an Elder. The Council of Elders was supported by the Jewish Ghetto Police, the Jüdischer Ordnungsdienst, formed at the end of 1940 and comprising three thousand men charged with enforcing law and order as well as carrying out German ad-hoc regulations.

  The imprisoned Jews did their best to make a terrible situation better. Many of the inhabitants of the ghetto were musicians, actors, comedians and artists. They tried to keep the culture alive by offering performances. But the truth was that the conditions were horrendous. In an area of 1.3 square miles, an average of over seven persons occupied a single room, barely subsisting on meager food rations. In a small, overcrowded area they were faced with disease, starvation, and filth. Time passed and death became a regular and frequent visitor to the little area known as the Warsaw ghetto.

  “The chances of Eidel surviving here in this place are slim,” Fruma said to Gitel and Zofia one night after Eidel had fallen asleep.

  “We have all been trying to give her some of our rations so she will have enough to eat,” Gitel said. And they did. Each of the women adored the child and they gave up parts of their preciously small food rations in order for Eidel to survive.

  “Eat, yes, we can help with that. We can give her our food and I am happy to do it. But TB is running rampant here. She is young. Her body is not strong enough to fight all of this disease and dirt. I am afraid for her.”

  “So what can we do?” Zofia asked

  Fruma shook her head. “The only way we can hope to really help her is to get her out of this terrible place.”

  “You mean to get her out of the ghetto?” Gitel asked. “But how?”

  “I will have to arrange it. I will contact Helen.”

  “Helen? You mean my friend Helen?” Zofia asked Fruma. “The one whose wedding dress you and I made together?”

  “Yes, Helen, the girl who married Nikodem Dobinski.”

  “How can you contact her?”

  “I have ways. I will take care of it. If Helen will take Eidel we can find that man who sells things from the black market and pay him to take Eidel to Helen.”

  Up to eighty percent of food consumed in the ghetto was brought in illegally. Private workshops were set up to manufacture goods to be sold secretly on the Aryan side of the city.

  “Why would he do that for us? It’s a big risk for him,” Zofia said.

  “Because I will pay him well. I will make sure it is worth his while,” Fruma said.

  “You have money?” Gitel asked.

  “I have a large diamond. It was a gift from my mother. It is all I have left of any value.”

  “I couldn’t let you do that,” Zofia said.

  “I am not asking you to let me do it,” Fruma said. “I am offering to do it. I am insisting, in fact.”

  “But she will be so far away from us,” Gitel said.

  Fruma nodded. “Yes, far from us, but also far from this hell where we are imprisoned. And that will be good for her. Our feelings are not important. Her life is at stake.”

  “I couldn’t let her go without me, Fruma. I wouldn’t know if she was safe.” Zofia’s hands were shaking. “Please, a child should be with her mother,” Zofia said, choking on the words.

  “Yes, in normal circumstances, you’re right. But here and now, if we want her to live, we must get her out of here. She must live her life as a gentile. It is the only way she will have a chance. And we must give her that chance, Zofia. We must.”

  Zofia began to weep softly. Gitel put her hand on Zofia’s shoulder.

  “I am sorry, Zofia. I love her too. Gitel loves her. I know how hard this is for you,” Fruma said

  “I don’t know,” Zofia said shaking her head and wringing her hands.

  “You are her mother. You have the final say so. Why don’t you take the night to think it over. I won’t try to make any arrangements until you tell me your decision.”

  Zofia did not sleep that night. Her mind raced. She remembered the story of King Solomon. Two women came to the wise king, each claiming the child to be hers. King Solomon said that he would cut the child in two and give each woman a half. The true mother was the one who was willing to give her child up to the other woman rather than have it cut in two. The real mother was the one who was willing to give the child away in order to save its life.

  And so I must sacrifice my own happiness and give Eidel away because it is what is best for her. I must do this for Eidel, Zofia thought.

  The three women slept crowded together on a small cot. Zofia wept soundlessly so as not to disturb the others. But she’d made her decision.

  In the morning when Fruma awakened, Zofia took her hand.

  “Get Eidel out of here any way that you can,” Zofia said.

  Fruma began to search for help and to make a plan for Eidel’s escape. She took risks to find out if Helen was willing to raise Zofia’s daughter. Once she knew that Helen would take Zofia’s child, she met with a man who worked in the black market, bringing goods in and out of the ghetto to sell to the inhabitants. His name was Karl Abendstern, and many of the people within the ghetto knew that he slipped out of the ghetto during the night and returned with much-needed food to sell in the morning. Fruma approached him. She offered him the diamond. The man held it up to the light. Fruma knew that it was a stone of fine quality. It was a large and beautiful blue-white, almost flawless, diamond. There was no doubt that the stone could be used in exchange for many things on the other side of the wall. At first, Karl was reluctant. Even though the diamond was of great value, he was taking a great risk. However, Fruma was strong and insistent. She finally convinced him to help her.