I held the sun in my hands
A Memoir
by
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We awakened the next morning with
the sun shining through the windows. There were no wake-up calls, no guards, no sirens. We cautiously climbed down from our bunks, looked
outside, and saw no SS around. Everything was quiet, and an eerie stillness
hung in the air. We went outside and slowly approached the gates. The gates
were locked but no guards stood outside; gone were the vicious dogs as well. We
stood there, stupefied. We couldn’t believe our eyes. Was this what we were
waiting for? Was this really the end of our slavery? Was this the dawn of our
freedom? Or perhaps just a cruel joke, a trick to finish us off quickly? Or perhaps only a dream?
“Let’s get out of here!” someone
cried, shaking us out of our stupor. I ran behind the dump and got a shovel; others
followed me, and we started digging under the electric fence. Gone was the
inertia, the weariness that had plagued us all these months. We dug and
shoveled, and in a short time we had a hole big enough
for me to crawl through since I weighed only about 60 pounds. I carefully slid
down into the hole, and, scraping the dirt away on the other side, I pulled
myself through.
There I was, standing alone, the
fence behind me, facing the wide, open road. I was afraid to take another step
and destroy this mirage. Slowly, I started walking forward, looking around to
see if someone would shout “Halt!” I turned around and saw the others watching
me, mesmerized. Again, I looked around. Not far away I saw the SS headquarters
and their living quarters. Everything was deserted. The road was empty,
peaceful. In the distance I could see the townno
movement there either. The wind was lightly blowing the brand new leaves on the
trees on both sides of the road, gently touching my hollowed cheeks. There were
wildflowers in the fields, and the air was clear and fragrant. I looked up at
the sky. The sun was now majestically occupying the eastern horizon, sending
its rays all around, warming my shrunken body. I stood there, stretching my
arms upward, reaching as high as I could. And I held the sun in my hands, as
long as I could, praying that it would not fall or
disappear.
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About the Book
"I Held the Sun in My
Hands" is the story of a young girl raised in a traditional Jewish family
in Hungary prior to and during WWII. When Germany occupied Hungary on March
19th, 1944, Erika Jacoby was deported to Auschwitz, together with her mother.
She was among the youngest that escaped the selection of Dr .Mengele and together with her mother, who was among the oldest, she endured and outlasted the atrocities and
deprivations of the Nazi persecutors. In her book she describes how the
teachings and values that she absorbed and incorporated into her life in her
home helped her survive Auschwitz and the other concentration camps. She writes
movingly about her painful disappointments in the behavior of her fellow human
beings, while never losing her faith in God. This unshakable trust in the
divine personal protection inspired others as well not to give up hope. In her
memoir we witness how this young girl took upon herself the enormous
responsibility for her mother's survival, and the impact of that on their relationship
after the war and, indeed, throughout their lives. The author, a clinical
social worker, examines this relationship with much insight and compassion.
This book is a remarkable account
of one person's resiliency, ability to cope with adversity and survive not only
physically but also spiritually.
About the Author
Erika Jacoby earned an MSW at the
University of Southern California and has been working as a clinical social
worker for the past thirty years. She has treated many Holocaust survivors,
volunteered to work with different groups, participated in conferences, and
written articles relating to the experiences of the survivor families. She has
been interviewed on many television programs and appeared in Steven Spielberg
film "Survivors of the Holocaust". Her most acknowledged contribution
has been her continuous readiness to speak to the students in schools,
universities, to audiences in temples, and in churches, to raise awareness
about the Holocaust and its lessons for our generation. She lives in Los
Angeles with her husband, Emil Jacoby, a Jewish educator.