Long, long ago, it was sensational to receive a letter. We used to wait for the mailman impatiently. A letter could change plans, change lives, and fates. I once received a fateful letter that completely turned around my planned future. I was engaged to a young man named Marian Czerniak from Łódź, Poland. We met in Innsbruck, Austria, immediately after the liberation. As he did not speak Hungarian, our common language was German. When I returned to Hungary after having been in Innsbruck for eight months, Marian went to Poland to find out if anyone in his family had survived. His parents had owned a chocolate factory in Łódź.
Marian found out that from his whole big family, only his uncle had survived, so he contacted him. The uncle offered Marian all the help he could give—if Marian would join him in Tel Aviv. That was a big deal for a young man who had nothing and no one in the whole world! He wanted me to be a part of his life and asked me to accompany him. We got engaged. He left for Berlin to make the necessary arrangements. Letters were coming to me all the time. Beautiful love letters. Then one nice day, the letter I received was in Polish. Why in Polish, I wondered? He surely had his reasons. I went to a Polish acquaintance to have her translate the letter. It turned out that Marian had mixed up my letter with a letter meant for his uncle. The letter he had written to me in German had been sent to his uncle in Tel Aviv, and the letter he had written to his uncle in Polish had been sent to me.
It became clear that the letter I had received was an answer to his uncle, who had written to him that he would withdraw all the help he had offered Marian if he did not come alone!
Marian’s answer was also clear: He would be bringing me to Tel Aviv and did not want the uncle’s help. Well, I did what I was sure was the right thing: I broke up with him, explaining that I could not be the reason such an important privilege was taken away from him. He returned from Berlin to Hungary, pleading, explaining, and not accepting my decision—but I was adamant.
I wonder how my life would have turned out if I had gone to Israel with him then.
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