That night I resumed my life of wandering and hiding, but I didn’t feel lonely any more. Now I knew that there was still Jewish life in the city, that there were resistance fighters and survivors. I was determined to survive and live to see the arrival of our liberators.
My mother, my father, David and I were all still alive, thanks to individual miracles. I will briefly recount each one of these.
Mother was hiding in the lumberyard cum orphanage, where I visited her a couple of times. David and a Polish boy also snuck in once in a while. The place had enough basic food supplies to last for a few weeks, if necessary. Each time I left feeling reassured that at least Mother was safe. If only she could have felt the same way about me…
David had also survived these rotten months. Since escaping from his labour unit, like me, he had been hiding out in Budapest. However, late in December 1944, we decided that the city had become too dangerous a place to live. We both joined Mother and stayed with her till the end.