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Echoes of Memory

Read reflections and testimonies written by Holocaust survivors in their own words.

These essays and testimonials come from our guided writing workshops for Holocaust Survivors. Learn more about our Writing Workshop for Holocaust Survivors.

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Topic:remembrance

Displaying 1-10 of 64 Essays

  • Waiting

    On the outskirts of a small village near Vichy, France, Looms the antediluvian castle the Château des Morelles Housing not grand dukes and duchesses But children from Germany, France, and Italy—waiting Lost from their individual families Scattered by the Third Reich. They eat their meager food Pretending it is the feast of royalty.

  • Travel Dreams

    During my 86 years, I have experienced many countries, and not necessarily for pleasure. I have lived in Poland, England, Israel, and the United States. I owe thanks to each country for allowing me to adapt and live a good life there for some period of time.

  • Why Tell Our Stories

    Wrapped in history Hearing our words go out in the world.

  • Closure, Part II

    Closure has many definitions in dictionaries, as well as professional guidelines where the word is part of the terminology or jargon. In my experience, closure means different things to different individuals.

  • Closure, Part I

    Presenting my family’s Holocaust history to a live audience is never easy. I am always looking forward to the last ten to 15 minutes of the presentation, which is a question-and-answer session.

  • Dini

    Dini Polak is a lively Dutch woman in her mid-80s who has a debilitating muscle and balance disorder that has kept her in a wheelchair and homebound for ten years, but whose social media presence alone testifies to her avid interest in world affairs, politics, and literature.

  • Fire

    Fire is wonderful, warms up your home, Fire is terrible, destruction, war. What do I remember about fire? My grandmother’s home, the stove with tile. I came in from the winter, very cold, but I put my back against that warm stove.

  • My Street

  • They Took My Father Away

    They took my father away. They came one evening and took him away on a stretcher. Two policemen in blue uniforms bent over the black, blanketed heap And heaved up the poles And opened the door and left.

  • Last Night I Dreamt of My Father

    Last night I dreamt of my father. He was not my father as I remembered him. He was another man, and yet my father. His face and clothes were from another time, Another place.