How I lost everything
I was only three years old when my parents handed me, my brother and my sister, just in time, to members of the underground. My parents and the rest of my family were deported. For security reasons they separated my brother and me. I lodged in Treebeek (Limburg) but when I got scarlet fever I was put up in another family and I ended up in a Christian family. Out of respect for my Jewish parents, who might be orthodox, they didn’t take me to church. As soon as the war was over, they reasoned, then my family would still be alive and I could grow up further according to my Jewish roots. However, in total 73 of my family members died in the Holocaust, amongst them was my mother.
How hate filled my heart
After the war my father, brother and sister suddenly turned up on our doorstep but they were total strangers to me. I considered my foster parents as my real parents. During the war my father got acquainted with a woman from the underground, whom he later married. The safe family from before the war was broken. My “new” mother was terrible and later it appeared that she was involved in occult practices.
During my teenage years things were getting so bad that I thought about ending my life. Growing older, the hate filled my heart more and more. It obsessed me so much that sometimes I started looking for the traitors of my family with a pair of scissors in my bag. These were delusions, but they dominated my life so much that I got heart and stomach aches.