The End of Days (19 page)

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Authors: Helen Sendyk

Tags: #Biography & Autobiography, #Historical, #History, #Holocaust, #test

BOOK: The End of Days
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Vrumek Stapler, who also survived the war. The
photograph was taken in Palestine in 1945.
No photo exists of Helen's brother Sholek, who was killed by the Nazis when he was fifteen years old.
Sister Goldzia.
The author, Helcia Stapler, in May of 1946, one
year after the end of the war. The photograph
was taken in Palestine for the required
identity card as an immigrant.
Nachcia, who survived the camps with her sister.
Photo taken in 1937, when she was twenty-three.
Sister Blimcia.
Simcha Stapler, the author's father, in 1939.
Heshek hauling his kerosene
lamps to market in Lvov.
Simcha Stapler in 1940, after his
beard was shaven by the Nazis.
Jewish men of Chrzanow, forced laborers,
digging ditches for the Nazis in 1940.
 
Page 115
vitamins and proper nourishment resulted in lost teeth and weakened bones. Lung disease was rampant and contagious typhoid was spreading.
"The winter is almost over," Cesia cheerfully said to her tired husband one evening as he returned home from the day's struggles. He had been in a low mood for several days now, uttering complaints that he usually kept to himself.
"How long is this war going to last? Who knows if we will get out of here? When will we know how our families are?"
"Aren't you happy, Heshek? I am your family now. I am here with you and will be with you forever."
When they sat down to their meager meal, Cesia noticed that Heshek wasn't eating. "What is it, Heshek?" she asked anxiously.
"You are suffering enough without having to worry about me," he said. She soon found out that he had injured his leg and had kept on going to work in spite of immense pain.
For two days Heshek wasn't himself. Feeling weak, sweating uncontrollably, he attributed it all to their prolonged captivity and deprivation, but finally he had to admit to Cesia that he was not strong enough even to go to work. He woke the next day burning with fever.
Cesia was distraught. Here they were, deep in Siberia, destitute and alone. Heshek was her pillar of strength. What was she to do? Where could she seek help?
She tried some home remedies, compresses and herbal teas offered by peasant neighbors, but none seemed to relieve Heshek's distress. She bathed his body in rags soaked in cool water. But Heshek was growing weaker. He called her name deliriously or just moaned unintelligibly. When days passed without improvement, Cesia resolved to seek medical help.
It was the last day in May. The sun shone with new light, yet Cesia's world was dim. In the early morning she asked her neighbor to look in on her sick husband while she went to Tomsk to get a doctor. She looked anxiously back at her beloved Heshek. Again, the inner struggle tore her up. Should she leave him in this condition. Should she stay by his side?
 
Page 116
No! She concluded that she couldn't help him by sitting idly by.
Cesia left the cottage, walking for hours, sometimes urgently quickening her pace and sometimes slowing down with exhaustion. The sun was high in the sky when she entered the forbidding forest, and it was dark when she finally left the woods to see lights flickering in the distance.
Hungry and exhausted, she finally reached a cottage, where a compassionate old woman spread some straw on the floor so Cesia could spend the night. Early in the morning she inquired about a doctor. She could not see him immediately, she discovered, because he was at the hospital, which would not allow her in. Squeezing her throbbing head in the palms of her hands, she sat waiting for hours. With pleas, cries, and some bribe money, she eventually convinced the doctor to give her a prescription. She then ran to the druggist, only to be told that she would have to wait several days for the rare medicine. But sure enough, after shelling out the last of her money, a small bottle appeared on the counter. It was too late to begin the trek home, so Cesia stayed another night at the old woman's cottage. Before dawn she rose and set out on her return trip, with the precious bottle held tightly in her hand.
By late evening she stood exhausted in the doorway of her hut. The cottage was dark and quiet. With trembling hands she lit the lamp to see Heshek's pale, white face against the straw mat. His eyes were closed. She came close and rested her head on his chest to listen for a heartbeat. It was weak and sporadic. With tears choking her throat, she poured the precious liquid slowly into a spoon, held his lips open, and poured the medicine down his throat. She stared at his face, waiting for a miracle to happen. She wanted him to open his eyes and look at her. She was sure he would say, "My poor Cesia, my dearest one, you are so exhausted. You went so far to bring me this medicine. Only your love could have brought me this healing. It brought me back to life. It brought me back so I could love you and care for you forever and prove to you that I am worthy of your love."
But none of it happened that way. Heshek's face remained

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