It is a strange thing, to be a memory…. I write from a moment in my own past—from within my memories. In fact, I realize that I am my memories. I am everything that I remember up to this point in my life. I drift between the past and the future—living and dreaming and thinking in the past, but writing in my own future.
How does one host a joint book club discussion with two separate groups of children of holocaust survivors, each of which is keen to protect its members’ privacy, and each of whose members are located all over the world? With the help of Facebook, some extraordinary cooperation, and a lot of good will, we achieved something unique, and learned a lot along the way.
On March 25th 1943, Ovadya and his family arrived at Birkenau. His mother Malka and his sister Miryam were gassed on arrival. At seventeen, Ovadya had already outlived his world, though he was as yet unaware of it. His survival was to cost him dearly. On March 25th 2014, his story was officially released into the world. His promises to the dead were fulfilled and he had witnessed their fulfillment.