Alicia: My StoryRandom House Publishing Group, 16.02.2011 - 448 Seiten WINNER OF THE 1989 CHRISTOPHER AWARD • Here is a thrilling, uplifting story of true-life heroism unequaled since the publication of Anne Frank's diary—a story that the young must hear and their elders must remember. Take Alicia's hand—and follow. “This memoir is heartbreaking. I hope it will be read by Jews and non-Jews alike.”—Elie Wiesel, author of Night Her name is Alicia. She was thirteen when she began saving the lives of people she did not know—while fleeing the Nazis through war-ravaged Poland. Her family cruelly wrenched from her, Alicia rescued other Jews from the Gestapo, led them to safe hideouts, and lent them her courage and hope. Even the sight of her mother's brutal murder could not quash this remarkable child's faith in human goodness—or her determination to prevail against overwhelming odds. After the war, Alicia continued to risk her life, leading Polish Jews on an underground route to freedom in Palestine. She swore on her brother's grave that if she survived, she would speak for her silenced family. This book is the eloquent fulfillment of that oath. Praise for Alicia “Profoundly observed . . . remarkably lived . . . ferocious bravery.”—The New York Times Book Review “As exciting as it is inspirational. In fact, a good bit of Alicia: My Story reads as if it were written by one of our better writers of fiction.”—The Pittsburgh Press “A compelling voice, lucid prose . . . a luminous testimony to the heroism and humanity of one remarkable person.”—San Francisco Chronicle “Straightforward . . . energizing and inspirational.”—Newsday |
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Seite i
... cried, jerking at her hand. “Run!" But she just stood there holding my hand in an iron grip. Now a new fear hit me—what if I couldn't get loose? Dear God, no! Then Eva loosed her hold, and I was able to pull my hand free, the force of ...
... cried, jerking at her hand. “Run!" But she just stood there holding my hand in an iron grip. Now a new fear hit me—what if I couldn't get loose? Dear God, no! Then Eva loosed her hold, and I was able to pull my hand free, the force of ...
Seite 19
... cried. “Don't tell me it wasn't.” “It could have been thunder, sweetheart, but I didn't think so then. I think"—he looked at my mother, and with a choked voice added—“we should start preparing ourselves for the worst.” “No,” I cried ...
... cried. “Don't tell me it wasn't.” “It could have been thunder, sweetheart, but I didn't think so then. I think"—he looked at my mother, and with a choked voice added—“we should start preparing ourselves for the worst.” “No,” I cried ...
Seite 20
... cried. “Papa, I am here!" “Stay where you are,” the voice called back. “I am coming.” Then the figure of my brother Zachary came into sight. Tears of disappointment welled in my eyes as I sat heavily back on the log. I didn't look up as ...
... cried. “Papa, I am here!" “Stay where you are,” the voice called back. “I am coming.” Then the figure of my brother Zachary came into sight. Tears of disappointment welled in my eyes as I sat heavily back on the log. I didn't look up as ...
Seite 30
... cries from the people within. We soon realized that the car was not entirely dark. Light could be seen through cracks between the boards, and better still, there were small barred windows, open and without glass, which let enough light ...
... cries from the people within. We soon realized that the car was not entirely dark. Light could be seen through cracks between the boards, and better still, there were small barred windows, open and without glass, which let enough light ...
Seite 31
... cried. “This bar is loose. Look!” Another man reached over and tried the bar. It was true. Several men worked their way through the mass of people to the window, taking turns wrenching at the steel bar. They pounded at it with the palms ...
... cried. “This bar is loose. Look!” Another man reached over and tried the bar. It was true. Several men worked their way through the mass of people to the window, taking turns wrenching at the steel bar. They pounded at it with the palms ...
Inhalt
1 | |
16 | |
22 | |
34 | |
40 | |
The First Action | 49 |
Bella | 68 |
In Chortkov Prison | 76 |
the Bitter Winter of 1943 | 177 |
My Mother | 206 |
Struggle to Survive | 234 |
Return to Buczacz | 258 |
In a Russian Prison | 290 |
My Orphanage | 320 |
The Brecha | 337 |
Lodz | 360 |
Milek | 102 |
Reunion | 117 |
In the Fields | 132 |
Wujciu | 158 |
The Badgastein DP Camp | 390 |
School in Belgium | 408 |
Coming Home | 418 |
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Alicia Aliyah Bet asked Badgastein began Bella Bielsko bread Brecha Bronia brother Buczacz Bunio bunker Chortkov cried crying door DP camp Eretz Israel eyes face farmer father felt field forest friends Germans Gestapo ghetto girl hand happened head hear heard heart Hebrew Herzl hiding inside Jewish Jewish agency Jews Judenrat Jurman killed knew Kola Kopechince leave lived Lodz looked Mama Manka Mesha Milek morning mother moved Nazis night NKVD pain partisans Peppa Poland Poles police Polish potatoes prison pulled quickly Rachel realized remembered returned Russian Sharf sitting Slavka sleep sleigh smiled someone Soviet Union stay stood stopped street suddenly survived talk tears tell Theodor Herzl things thought told took trying turned Tzivia Ukrainian UNRRA village voice waiting walked woman worried Wujciu Yiddish young Zachary