Generations together.

Does being an artist run in the family?
It appears that it often does.
“Irgun Joze Mercas Europa” - the organization of immigrants from Central Europe, had the bright idea to invite artists of two or three generations from within the same family to a joint art exhibition.
I have been painting for the past 20 years to give creative expression to some of my thoughts and feelings, participated at group exhibitions and had several single ones.

But this time the call to register was different. My grandson Ido likes to make sculptures from what ever he can lay his hands on. He has created some exquisite ones from odds and ends of discarded metal tools, one of them called multi- tool.
I thought that this exhibition would be an excellent possibility to give a young man like him some exposure of his artistic trend.
The curator had asked us to send in by e-mail some examples. He was immediately taken by my grandsons work. From among my vast store of paintings he choose a set of three small paintings that were hanging on my memorial wall, scenes I had painted in 1989 after my visit to Auschwitz where my mother had perished.
Also chosen to include was a small wooden Jewel-box that my mother decorated back in the year 1913. She crafted it for her cousin, who brought it with her to this country and later gave it to me for keepsake. My mother was a very gifted and creative person and in my childhood I often admired her skills and loved to watch her do things with her hands.
My three children are creative in different ways and so are my grandchildren, as well as some of my great-grandchildren, like the three brothers aged 8, 6 and 4 year old, playing musical instruments.

Eight family groups, some two and others three or four generations within the family, participated. For the festive opening of the exhibition in the gallery of the Jerusalem Theater some 70 guests turned up.
I was proud to see that the sculpture of my grandson Ido was exposed at a strategic point of entrance so that everybody who entered was aware of it and it a brought a smile to their faces. Ido is about to start his engineer study.
The grandmother of one of the families, 50 or 60 years ago did the graphic design for a cleaning material called “Ama”, depicting a little girl with two pigtails. Her granddaughter did a very artistic variation of that picture putting different faces, including some famous actors in place of the little girl. This granddaughter is about to enter the Bezalel Art College. Another family, the father, an architect by profession, and his 14- year old son, painted each other’s portraits.

To judge by the exhibition, the joy of creativity seems to be passed on from generation to generation. All told it was very impressive. As soon as I got home I started to write an article about it to the newspaper of the organization that organized and funded the exhibit.

Danny, my son went back to take pictures to be included in my article.

I hope it will be printed in the next issue.

All in a days work.

August was hot but besides that very little happened.
September is different. My days are again filled with different activities.

Yesterday was one of these days.
The morning started of with the old peoples club meeting entering the seventh year. It is a club, which I initiated, as part of the Association of Former Immigrants from Central Europe. We heard a pleasant rendering of stories connected with the forthcoming High Holiday season and wished each other a Happy New Year. Before going home I sat with a couple women to plan the activities for the coming two month.

To get from one place to another I either have to take my three-wheeled walker or get a taxi to get me to the further away meeting places. That is how it is when you get old and older

At 4.00 o’clock, of I went to the weekly meeting of Café-Europa, a get-together for Shoa survivors, just up the street from where I live.
It is thanks to the cooperation of different departments of the Municipality, the Welfare Department, the Neighborhood Administration and the Jerusalem Foundation with a generous donation from the Wagner family in Germany, that within the last couple of years, different activities for old people got once more started. I have since emailed the Wagner family and thanked them for their donation.
Three young women, social workers by profession, when starting their various activities for old people in this neighborhood, first came to me and we had long talks as to what the social and emotional needs of old people are. I gave them articles to read, that I had written on the subject. Doing research on Aging and Old Age is just one of the many hobbies that I pursue.

At yesterdays meeting in Café Europa representatives of all the departments involved were present and I greeted them with a few words, praising the facts that thanks to their cooperation we can now enjoy ourselves week after week, relax to pleasant music, coffee and cake.

That was not the end of the day yet.
Shortly before 6 o’clock I caught a taxi, which took me to an Inter-faith meeting. As the people slowly trickled in, Donna Jacob Sife, a well known storyteller from Australia, asked me whether I was also involved in Inter-faith work. My answer was, yes, why else do you think that I am here. Her reply was, that is a cheeky answer. Why is this cheeky I asked and we chatted on. As it turned out, it was her and me who best understood each other. As she kept telling one fascinating story after another, she frequently referred to the talk we had before the meeting got started.
One of her sayings was: “When You are You and I am Me, I can be Me. But if You try to be Me and I try to be You, I can not be Me”.
In an e.mail I send to her this morning I wrote: ”So, You are You and I am Me and that is how it should be”. I thanked her for a wonderful evening.
I then commenced to browse on her website.

http://www.donnajacobsife.com/
It was difficult for me to tear myself away from it. Some of the tales are well known, but get a new perspective when used in the context of Inter-faith.

Late last night I got a phone call from a good friend in Germany. We had an interesting talk. She said that it is a long time since I last wrote on my blog.
So here I am.
It is hard to get everything done that I would like to do, but I did want to share with you some of what I do.
What has become clear to me, more then ever before, is the fact that You are You and I am Me and that is how it should be.

"Amcha" Yom Hashoa 2009

As in previous years on Yom Hashoa, so also this year, I participated in a couple of workshops at “Amcha”. Under the guidance of a senior psychologist we discussed ‘Emuna Beshoa’ - Belief during the Shoa. There were vast differences in the approach to this subject. 

My own personal belief goes back on my upbringing at home in Germany. My mother was a devout Zionist. From a young age I belonged to “Habonim”, a Zionist pioneering youth movement. My belief, then and now, is based on Judaism, Zionism and Pioneering. The Shoa did not change my belief. My mother was willing to make great sacrifices for her belief. She parted from one child after the other, in order for us three children to be able to live. Her parting words were "Lehitraot Bearzenu" -See you again in our homeland-. My brother came to Erez Israel with Youth Aliya, my sister and myself were throughout the war on Hachshara in England.   There I waited  until I could fulfill my dream to come on Aliya,  to arrive in Erez Israel as soon as it was possible, which was within a month of the end of the war in 1945.  My parents perished in Theresienstadt and Auschwitz, their bodies bend, but with their spirit alive. They preserved  their integrity, dignity and  "Emuna"- 'belief' in humanity until the end.

My mother lived under the Nazi rule for eleven years, from 1933 –1944. I left home in 1939 aged fifteen. For three and a half years, until in 1942 together with my father she was on the transport to Thersienstadt, where my father died, she accompanied me during my growing up stage. It was my mother in her many letters I received from her, who gave me the courage and inspired me to live up to my belief.  It is precisely that, which keeps me going 70 years later in my old age. 

In the discussion there were people who objected to my saying that my parents perished. They insisted and tried to imply that I should say they were murdered. The word “murdered” for me brings up the image of the murderers. It sounds  like the language the  historians use.

For me it is important to remember my parents as they were. They were always concerned and helpful to others, loving and caring for each other and their children and until the end strong in their belief in humanity. It is their image that I have in mind when I tell the story of a Jewish Family, my family. 

It is my narrative, a narrative I can live with. I cherish the memory of my parents and the values which they instilled in me, hoping they will be passed on from generation to generation  

 

Twenty Years of Friendship

In the spring of 1988 I met Pastor Berndt for the first time in answer to a small notice that I saw in the Jerusalem Post:  “Will be visiting the Rutenberg House in Haifa with a youth group from Germany and would like to meet with someone who remembers the “Kristall Nacht” – the pogrom night of November 1938”. 

1988 was a general awakening in Germany to pay attention to what happened fifty years earlier. I got an invitation from several cities to speak in schools and tell the story of a Jewish Family - my family.

Pastor Berndt invited me to stay with his family in his home for the duration while I was talking in schools and in the community. A deep friendship developed and I called him my Pastor. On my annual lecture tours to Germany it became a regular stopover for me. He visited Israel with different groups over the years. His younger son who studied Theology spent a term to study in Israel.

A couple of weeks ago I received a mail from Pastor Berndt that he will be touring Israel with his wife, hid elder son, daughter in law and their 4 children aged 12, 10, 6,and 4. They would like to visit me. He wanted his grandchildren to hear me tell the story of my family in my home.  While I gave the younger children paper and colors to paint, I used my picture book that I specially made for such a time when I can’t use my computer power point presentations. 

Pastor Berndt recalled our first meeting 21 years ago and his amazement at that  time when he met an old lady who greeted this group of young Germans boys and girls with a bunch of spring flowers. 

Twenty years of friendship, covering three generations, was crowned with the present visit. Everybody showed great interest, hugged me, thanked me warmly and promised to return. 

 

 

 

 

War is War

The war is raging in Gaza and here I am sitting at home and do not know what to do with myself. Life goes on, I have to do my shopping, cooking, eating, going to the doctor, making appointments for further examinations, trying to keep in touch with the rest of the family, keeping a dentist appointment.
The news broadcasts are blaring in my ears and tears come to my eyes. Often I get asked by all sorts of people, locals as well as visitors, what I think of what is going on in Gaza.

My only answer is, there is a war going on, and we have to hope that there will be a brake-through to achieve and allow for peaceful living in all parts of the country.
Israel has been threatened and attacked over and over, again and again. Over the years my children and grandchildren have served in fighting units and seen defensive battle after battle. Six years ago, one of my grandsons, while engaged in defending us, fell in J’enin during the battle of “Defense Shield”. For his parents, his siblings and the whole family, the wounds over this loss have never healed.
The present war is a bitter war, taking its toll of killed and wounded in body and soul on both sides. In many parts of the country everybody - women, children, old people are running day after day and night after night for shelter. Schools are closed and life is interrupted. It is a traumatic period we are going through which will have repercussions for a long time.
Hopefully it will end soon and bring about the much-needed arrangement for peace and quite.

A busy Chanukah week

Chanukah is one of the many feasts that fill the Jewish calendar. It is in remembrance of the revolt of the Hashmonaim, a priestly family that fought against the Greeks who had defiled the Temple 2000 years ago. When rededicating the Temple a small cruse of oil burned miraculous for eight days until fresh and purified oil could be got ready for the eternal light that was always kept alight in the temple. Until today on Chanukah we light up candles, on the first day one candle until on the eights day we light up eight candles.
Sunday for the lighting of the first candle I had an invitation to the Harman School for religious girls. There was a grand possession bringing in a Torah Scroll to the newly opened study center. I took my friend, a young woman from Germany along, who is in Israel for a year of volunteer service with the organization “Reconciliation and Peace work”. She works in Yad Vashem and visits me once a week. I wanted to give a chance to witness something very special and typically Jewish and Israeli. It was a real pleasure to see all the pupils dancing and singing carrying the Torah Scroll under the Baldachin of a stretched out Praying Shawl, taking pride in doing so and a very moving ceremony.
The Border Police plays a very important role in our live in Israel. Apart from their daily duties for our security they are also concerned about our social well-being. As a result of often being on duty in Yad Vashem, the central base of the Border Police in Jerusalem decided last year to adopt a group of Shoa Survivors and invite them on occasions to their festivities. For the second night of Chanukah I was picked up by a police car and taken to the base to share dinner with the soldiers, take part in the lighting of the second candle and watch a special funny Standup show.
For the third candle I participated at the opening ceremony of Café Europe, just down the street from me. It will serve Shoa survivors of the neighborhood as part of the local community service that I am involved in.
Chanukah will keep me busy.

All in a days work

On a Wednesday in November 2008 was just one of those days.
Tuesday in the afternoon the phone rang and I got an invitation as a Shoa survivor to attend the next day a short session in the Knesset in remembrance of “70 years to the pogrom of the Kristalnight”.
Of I went Wednesday morning at 10.00 o’clock and set in the special guest gallery, the nearer one without the glass dividing wall and had a good view of the constant comings and goings of the members of the Knesset. They rush in when the voting is announced and it is in their interest that some law of theirs or their party should be passed. As soon as they have pressed the voting button they rush out again. On the way out they stop to talk to somebody, or listen to their phone, which they are not allowed to do so in the main hall, others call out aloud when they disagree with what is being said. The speaker of the Knesset often has to raise her voice to tell a member to behave according to the rules or else to leave the hall.
Punctually at 12.00 o’clock, according to the timetable, three members of the Knesset spoke in remembrance of :

“70 years to the pogrom in November 1938”, the night when well over a thousand Synagogues burned, jewish shops were broken in and plundered, and Jewish men were taken to KZ / concentration camps.
That was the point of no return. From then on things got steadily worth for the Jewish people. Palestine was a British Mandate with restricted Jewish immigration and no other country wanted us.
After the speeches, as invited guests, the survivors had lunch at the Knesset restaurant.

Soon after I got home a guest from Germany arrived, who is the representative of the Berlin Missionary Work, in charge of the Thalita Kumi school in Beth Jala. I invited her to join me at the Cinematek for the book launch of “60 Years 60 Voices”.
Patricia Smith Melton founder and board chair of Peace x Peace women net working had interviewed 30 Palestinian women and 30 Israeli women and published 60 stories and vision in a beautiful book in English, Arabic and Hebrew. At a reception all those interviewed were presented with the book. My guest was amazed to see how Palestinian and Israeli women interacted and had shared interest.
I met old friends and made new acquaintances, including the wife of a UN official.
From there the director of IPCRI kindly drove me all the way to Tantur (next to the checkpoint on the road to Bethlehem) for our monthly Christian Jewish Dialog meeting of “Rainbow”, a group founded many years ago and still going strong. Next to me sat a visiting Scholar from Rome from the Pontificia Universita Gregoriana.
As is the case mostly, I got a lift home from a friend who is in charge of the Johanniter Hospiz in the Old City. Groups that stay in the Hospiz often come to my home to listen to me telling the story of my family.
Comes evening I was tired and pleased to get to bed.
As the saying goes : “All in a days work”.

How would you feel if you could spend a week with two young men?

The German Bundestag, as a gesture to the 60th anniversary of the founding of the State of Israel, invited 25 Shoa survivors together with a member of the second or third generation to come to their town of birth in Germany to give talks in Schools. ASF (Aktion Suehnezeichen) took upon itself to coordinate and make all the necessary arrangements. ASF asked me to accept this invitation.

The date was fixed for the week of 20. – 28. September 2008.
My sons and daughter are busy, as are most of my grandchildren.

But my grandson Ido (23) agreed to come along. The survivor should tell his or her life story and the young generation his or her attitude to the Shoa. As I had lived in Berlin until I left home for Scotland with a Kinder Transport in 1939, several schools in Berlin were chosen.
A special power point presentation “3 plus 3 Generations”, told my narrative. By showing pictures of three generations as we lived together in Germany, my grandmothers family, my parents and my brother and sister and myself, while through the next three generations, my children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, I feel rooted in Israel.
For Ido there was also a power point presentation, pictures from school, army life and his hobbies. In the last minute his brother Yoni (25) who was globetrotting at the time, joined us for the week in Berlin.
Accompanied by a coordinator, a young girl (21) from ASF and two young men, my grandsons, we set out each morning to another school, from sixth grade, (aged eleven), to grade thirteen, (aged eighteen to twenty). We were also invited to an Integration Center for young immigrants from Eastern Europe, who had done research for their newsletter about my family during the Nazi Regime and also arranged for a press conference including a member of the Bundestag.

All told we spoke to twelve different groups and were well received everywhere.
I have often spoken in schools in Israel and in Germany, but this time was very special for me. I enjoyed very much to be in the company of two young men who, where ever we went made an excellent impression on every body.

Trauma and Identity

In recent years I find an outlet for my thoughts in painting, prose, poetry and talking to people. I would like to share with you a recent talk I had with a student of Social Work.
He asked me two questions:
“What makes up your identity” and “How do you cope with your trauma”.
Being a Zionist, Jewish, Israeli and the Shoa have shaped my life.

Trauma and Identity .

I know who I am and who I want to be.
Growing up as a motherless daughter I had to find my own way through life. What helped me most was the fact that I had a goal. From early childhood, just like my mother, I had the dream of getting to our homeland, the Land of Israel and help build up the country as a Zionist pioneer. This is what my mother had hoped for to do and had hoped for her children. My mother remained my guide throughout my life.
Being Jewish was something my mother taught me to be proud off. That was a very daring thought at a time when anti-Semitism was at its height. Being proud has remained my attitude towards my Judaism till today. I am proud of belonging to the Jewish people with their ancient heritage, to keep to it and pass it on to the coming generations.

Being an Israeli is the fulfillment of a dream to be wanted, to belong, to be allowed to do so. This plays an active part in my day- to- day life.
The Shoa and all that it entails, the consequences of being excluded, deprived of all rights, unwanted, dispossessed, is something I hoped to spare my children from.
My children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren feel that they belong to this country based on our ancient heritage. In my way I helped to create the basis for that.

Time in August

August is the month that most people go on Holiday. I am on Holiday the year round. So what is special for me in August, what can I do to fill my time in August?
Somehow I feel I have to do something useful, even when there is nothing to do. The computer is often my last resource. It is like a magnet. It has a constant pull on me to sit down and use it.

That is what I am doing most days.
In September, which still seems far away, I have an invitation to come to Berlin as part of the 60-year celebration of the founding of the State of Israel. The Project “Le Dor Dor”, organised by the German Government and ASF has invited 25 survivors accompanied by a child or grandchild to come to Germany and talk in schools. While I have been asked to talk about my childhood memories, my 23 year old grandson who will accompany me on this trip, should talk about his generations attitude towards the Shoa and the relationship between Germany and Israel as seen by his generation.
Out of experience I know that pictures convey a subject much better than words can. So I have been busy putting together a power point projection, looking for photos that will tell the story of what it was like for us to live as whole family in Glogau and in Berlin, that is my grandmother, my parents and my siblings. Showing three generations living together in Germany and following it with photos of three further generations who live in Israel. Putting together “Three plus Three” was easy.
I also crafted a projection for my Grandson to show. He supplied me with photos and I made a story out of it. While I have more time than is good for me, the young generation is always busy and never has time. Time for what? They have the time to do what is right for them, which does not always include what we old people think they should be doing.
Actually they are busy building their life, which is no longer comparable, to what it was like for me, when I did so 70, 60 or 50 years ago.
Much has changed since then. We have a State now, which for a long seemed like a dream to me but has become reality.

As one of my grandsons pointed out to me, my generation was busy with mere surviving. That has changed. The present generation has all the time in the world and they are busy living their life.

And that is how it should be.