I really crave your love
On a dark day in autumn 1942, the air cold, very cold. Today was no different from other days in the Nazi concentration camps. I stood shivering in tattered clothes are thin, still can not believe that this nightmare really happened.
I'm just a boy. I should play with my friends, should I go to school; should I excited to meet my future when I will become an adult, married, and build my own family. However, all the dreams that only fit for those who are still alive, and I was no longer one of them. I almost died, trying to survive from day to day, from hour to hour, ever since I was dragged from my home and brought here with tens of thousands of other Jews. Was I still alive tomorrow? Is tonight I'll be taken to the gas chamber?
I was pacing near the barbed wire fence, trying to warm my body is cold. I'm hungry, but had long since I was starving, much longer than that to me think. I'm always hungry. Decent food seems to only exist in dreams. Every day more of us disappear, the happy past seems increasingly vague. I'm getting lost in despair.
Suddenly, I saw a girl walking behind a barbed wire fence. The boy stopped and looked at me with sad eyes, eyes that seemed to say that he understands, that he also could not find the answer why I'm here. I want to dispose of view, I'm embarrassed and awkward as a foreign girl had seen me in a situation like this. But, I could not divert my eyes from her eyes.
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out an apple red. Beautiful apple, red sheen. How long since the last time I saw it seranum apple! With the alert he turned to the right and left, then a triumphant smile quickly throw the apple over the fence. I ran to pick it, holding it with my fingers are trembling and frozen. In my world full of death, the apple became a symbol of life, a symbol of love. I looked up and saw it disappear in the distance.
The next day, I could not stop myself-at the same time I stood in the same spot, near the fence. Am I crazy to expect him to come again? Of course. But inside I rely on a thin slice of hope. He has given me hope, I must rely closely on that hope.
Once again, she came. Once again, she brings an apple for me, threw it over the fence, smiling sweetly as yesterday. This time I catch the apple, then I held it high so he saw it. Her eyes sparkled. Is he sorry? Maybe. I do not care. I'm quite happy to look at him. And for the first time since a long time, I feel my heart tremble because of overflow of feelings.
Seven months we met like that. Sometimes we exchanged words. Sometimes, just an apple. But, not just my stomach that was given food. She was like an angel from heaven. He gave food to my soul. And somehow, I know I also gave him food.
One day, I heard the terrible news: we will be moved to another camp. That could mean the end for me. What is clear, it is the end of my meeting with my friend that. The next day when I greeted him, with a broken heart I say what almost no power to tell,
"Tomorrow, do not bring me an apple," I said to him.
"I will be moved to another camp. We'll never meet again."
Before losing control of myself, I turned and ran away from the fence. I can not look back. If I turn, I knew he would see me standing awkwardly while tears flowed down my face.
Month after month passed. The nightmare continues. But memories of the girl helped me overcome terrifying moments, pain, and despair. Many times I saw it with my eyes my mind, I see his face and his eyes are gentle. I heard his words soft and sweet taste those apples.
Until one day, the nightmare came to an abrupt end. The war is over. We are still alive were released. I have lost all my valuable, including my family. But I still keep the memory of the girl, the memories that I keep to myself and gave me the will to continue my life after I moved to America to start a new life.
Years passed. Until the year 1957. At that time I lived in New York City. A friend made me do a blind date with a woman friend. Reluctantly, I agreed. Apparently she was sweet, his name is Roman. Like me, he was also an immigrant. That way at least we have the equation.
"Where were you during the war?" Rome asked me, with such subtle ways that immigrants generally ask each other about those years.
"I'm at a concentration camp in Germany," I replied.
Rome eyes looked glazed, as if he remembered something sweet but it made her sad.
"What?" I asked.
"I remember my past, Herman," Roma explains in a voice suddenly became very soft. "When I was a kid, I lived near a concentration camp. There was a boy, a prisoner. Over the past few months I always come here every day. I remember, I used to bring apples for him. I always throw the apple over the fence . The boy was happy to "
Rome long sigh, then continued, "It's hard describe how we feel, however each time we were young once. Even if the situation permits we had only exchanged a few words but I'm sure, at that time between us grow sincere love. I'm sure he'll be killed like the others. But, I can not imagine it. Therefore, I try to remember him like I saw in those months, when we're together. "
With heart pounding until I thought almost exploded, I stared fixedly Rome and asked,
"Is one day a boy said to you, 'Tomorrow do not bring me an apple. I will be moved to another camp'?"
"Well, yes," said Rome, his voice quivering.
"But, Herman, how could you possibly know that?"
I grabbed his hand and answered, "Because I was the boy's, Rome."
Seconds passed slowly. There was only silence.
We can not divert our eyes. Our long look at each other. Then, after the curtain time is raised, we recognize the soul behind the eyes that stared at each other, we recognize a friend who had a very sweet and we love, we always loved, who never lost from our memories.
Finally, I said, "Rome, I never separated from you. Now I do not want to be separated again from you. Now I'm free, I want to be with you, forever. My dear, will you marry me?"
I see that same twinkle in the eye that had often looked at it when the Roman replied, "Yes, I'll marry you." Then we hugged, hug that we've longed for for months, but hindered by, the barbed wire fence that separated us. Now, no one else will separate us.
Nearly forty years have passed since I found my Roma again. Fate brought us together for the first time in wartime, to show me the promise of hope. Now, the fate of all that unites us to fulfill that promise.
Valentine's Day 1996. I took Roma to the Oprah Winfrey Show to honor him on national television. In front of millions of viewers, I want to tell him what I felt in my heart every day:
"My love, you gave me food in a concentration camp when I'm hungry. I will keep hunger and thirst for something that seemed would never be enough kuperoleh: I hunger and thirst for your love."
Herman and Roma Rosenblat
As told to Barbara De Angelis, Ph.D.
