by Carol Matas
December 22
The Japanese claim they have taken over 700 prisoners, most of them Canadians. Our paper says we’re still fighting and holding them off, but this other news comes from German radio. Mommy insists it’s all propaganda and we shouldn’t believe a word of it.
I’m sorry I haven’t written for a bit but I’ve been so busy practising for the recital tomorrow. We are terribly worried about Morris. We listen to the radio every night and read every scrap in the newspapers but so far nothing except they are still fighting. Auntie Adele is almost crazy with worry about Isaac. She can’t stand to think about him and Morris fighting because they don’t know how, number 1, and number 2, they wouldn’t want to hurt anyone! I just hope they get over that and kill anyone they need to in order to stay alive.
Yesterday morning I spent at Marcie’s. She and I discussed books like we always do. I just started a new Agatha Christie but there’s a part right at the beginning that makes me feel strange. She describes a Jew and how he knows all about money. Suddenly I wondered if Agatha Christie hates Jews too, like everyone seems to these days. I felt like crying because she’s my favourite author right now. I wonder if I should stop reading her. I asked Marcie what she thought.
She said something odd. “Everyone thinks about Jews like that,” she said, “so why bother about it? I mean, if you like reading her, just ignore that part. Why should you suffer because she’s stupid like that and then you can’t read her and you like to?”
I wondered if I shouldn’t take a stand and refuse to have anything to do with her. But Marcie thought not, because Mrs. Christie would never know whether I was reading her and therefore it wouldn’t change her mind one way or another. Then I had an idea — I’d write her. Because maybe she doesn’t even realize that she is hurting people’s feelings.
We spent the afternoon writing a letter to her and then we put a stamp on it and I mailed it today! Here’s what I wrote — more or less.
Dear Mrs. Christie,
I am one of your biggest fans. I love your books, even though my parents don’t always know I read them. I am Jewish. In And Then There Were None you write about a Jew and how he knows all about money. Some Jews do, but I need to tell you that Jews don’t know any more about money than anyone else. We’re just like anyone else. Some of us are good and some of us aren’t and some are smart and some aren’t. I like to dance and read and I don’t think I’m different from the others in my class who aren’t Jewish — I’m just different because I’m me. So I hope you will write your books with that in mind from now on and then I can read them without feeling sad.
Your biggest fan,
Devorah Bernstein
I hope she answers me. In the meantime I may as well finish the book because it is already very exciting. It is set on an island and all these people with strange pasts have been invited to the island, but we don’t know who’s behind the invitations, and then one by one the people start to die! Well, of course, it is a murder mystery!
Around three o’clock we went over to the Hebrew Sick Benefit Hall and met up with Mommy and Daddy there, before going to Auntie Adele’s. There was a Chanukah tea to raise money for children in Palestine. And some of those children are the lucky ones who have escaped Hitler. I got a teacup reading. It was spooky what the woman said — that I had three people I was worried about and that I should keep them in my prayers. And that I loved to dance. And that one day I would make a difference in the world! How could she know all that? I wish she knew if Morris and Adam would be safe. And if Sarah will get safely over here to Canada with her whole family. But the woman said there are too many people in trouble now for her to get a clear reading on anyone in particular. So I said, “What about Hitler?” And she said, “Good always defeats evil in the end. But how many will have to die first? More than we can imagine, I’m afraid.” That gave me chills down my spine. Chills.
Wish me luck for the recital tomorrow.
December 23
The recital went as well as it could have. I didn’t make a mistake and I think I danced at the top of my form and so did everyone else. Poor Sylvia fell over while doing a pirouette, but she got up again right away. She cried after, but we all joked around pretending to fall over too, and pretty soon she was laughing. And then we all went out for Chinese food at the Nan King. What a great night!
December 24
The paper today: HONG KONG TROOPS HIT BACK; CANADA WOUNDED BEING TREATED SATISFACTORILY. So they maybe still have a chance to win. And at least the wounded are being cared for. I’m hopeful.
December 25
The news on the radio tonight is very upsetting. Rumours that Hong Kong has fallen. Since it’s Christmas Day we were going out for Chinese food with the whole family like we always do, but then Mommy wanted to stay home and listen to the news. So only Daddy and I went, and when we came home Mommy wouldn’t say much about what she heard on the radio.
December 26
Morris’s picture was in the paper today. But I can hardly bear to write this down. The headline: HONG KONG’S HEROIC DEFENSE ENDED.
And the earlier edition: FATE OF GALLANT GRENADIERS MARS CHRISTMAS FESTIVAL. ALL OF MANITOBA PLUNGED IN GLOOM BY FAR EAST NEWS.
Mommy is on a rampage. Why did the boys have to sign up? It’s all Isaac’s fault. He goaded Morris into it. (Actually I think it was the other way around.) And then to see his picture in the paper as one who has served. It made me proud. And mad. And sad. And terribly worried. They’ve surrendered. What will happen to them? When will the army tell us if he is all right? Will they even know so they can tell us? The paper says they fear casualties are heavy. And that the military will do everything they can to find out about the wounded. There are pictures too, which makes it all too real. And the paper says that they fought overwhelming odds and that at the end they’d run out of water.
In the same paper it says that the French are now making planes for the Nazis. So while they aren’t busy sending Jews away they are busy helping the Nazis. I hate them. I need to write Sarah again, but I’m too upset right now.
If only we knew whether Morris is all right. I don’t want him to be a prisoner, but at least that would mean that he’s alive.
Mommy and Daddy were so upset they didn’t know what to do with themselves. I insisted they take me to a movie. It probably seemed heartless to them, but there was no use sitting around crying all day. I needed to get them out of the house. Dumbo had just opened at the Met. After constant nagging they finally gave in. So we went and it was packed — we barely got in. I loved it. This adorable baby elephant who wants to fly. But you can never get away from the war. There was a documentary on about flyers and of course that just reminded us that we need to worry about Adam as well as Morris! Still, I think it helped to get out of the house and I even heard Mommy laugh a couple times. Then we went to The White House for ribs and that would make anyone feel better!
I don’t have ballet tomorrow as we’re off for the Christmas holidays and no school all week.
December 27
Today Elizabeth, Sandy, Leslie and me went to Snell’s Drug Store for lunch. We had our favourite, ham sandwiches with lots of butter on white bread with chocolate milkshakes. We’ve never kept kosher at home, and for some reason we can have bacon but not ham or pork of any other kind. Daddy says it’s “kosher” bacon. Hester isn’t allowed to eat at our house because of that but that’s OK because she is so irritating. I never tell Mommy that I eat ham when I’m out, but we eat ribs — and they’re ham. It makes no sense to me so I ignore it. Boy, it was delicious. And then we went to the Sat. afternoon special matinee, Haunted Gold with John Wayne. And there were cartoons — three of them! I ate three bags of popcorn and then came home and had the worst stomach ache. Mommy put me to bed with a hot water bottle and lots of scolding. Daddy came in to cheer me up and told me some more jokes:
A woman told her doctor that she kept thinking she was a refrigerator.
“I see,” he said. “Do
es this disturb you?”
“Not really.”
“Then I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said.
“But Doctor, I sleep with my mouth open.”
“So?”
“The light keeps my husband awake.”
I stopped Daddy from leaving then with a question. “Do you think Morris will be okay?”
“Morris isn’t the strongest of them all, but he’s probably the smartest of them all, and maybe that and a little luck will keep him going.”
“Luck,” I repeated. “What’s luck?”
Daddy shook his head. “That’s another big question.”
“Is luck God deciding what will happen to us?”
“Maybe luck is just that — luck. Chance.”
“At the Chanukah fair, the teacup reader told me lots of things she saw in my future. If she can see the future, maybe it’s all decided and we’re just playing our parts, like me being the butterfly in the dance.”
“Or maybe nothing is decided and it’s just chance what kind of breaks we get.”
“Morris decided to get into the war — that wasn’t chance.”
“No,” Daddy answered, “and there’s one thing we can be sure of. What we decide does matter. Look at the Germans. They elected Hitler. Elected him! They love him! They line up in the streets for him. And the French? They don’t have to help the Nazis the way they are. Help? From what your Auntie Aimée writes, the French officials are pushing the Nazis to send the Jews away. So maybe we shouldn’t worry about fate and luck. Maybe we should just worry about what we can do, the choices we can make. One person can make a difference, Devvy, don’t ever forget that. And never forget that your brothers decided to stand up against this tyrant and fight him. I’m proud of them. Mommy is too. She doesn’t let on — I know she talks like she’s mad at them. But down deep she knows they did right. Should they have waited for some other young person to do it for us? Should they have shirked their chance to make a difference?”
That got me thinking. “But what am I doing to help?” I asked. “I should be doing more.”
“That’s up to you, Devvy,” he said. “I haven’t told the boys what to do and I won’t tell you, either.”
As he got up to go downstairs he added, “The Red Cross is trying to find out the names of those who have been captured, remember. Hopefully we’ll hear something soon.” He kissed me goodnight. Then Mommy came in. I asked her if she was proud of the boys for joining up.
She made a face and then sat down on my bed. She sighed before she answered.
“I am proud of them no matter what they do,” she said finally. “I’m proud because they are good boys and that means more to me than anything.”
“Then why are you mad?”
“I suppose because I’m frightened,” she answered, “if truth be told. And that makes me angry. And part of me thinks they could have stayed home and contributed here.”
This is the first time Mommy has ever talked to me this way. Daddy always does, as if I’m grown up and can understand. Maybe with both boys gone she’s figuring that I’m more grown up than she thought. I am eleven after all, and in grade six. Next year I’ll be in junior high!
I asked her then if it would be all right with her if I had a tea here at the end of next week to raise money for the Red Cross. I suggested we could have it in the sunroom. She thought that was an excellent idea, but warned me she’d be very busy all week with her Hadassah work, so she wouldn’t be able to help me. But then she added that at least it would keep me busy. “That’s not why I’m doing it!” I said, insulted.
So dear diary, that’s the project for the week. I’ll need to make a list of things I need to do and people to invite.
And Then There Were None is really gruesome, by the way. People are dying right, left and centre! I think I’m going to reread Anne of Green Gables. I need a break from all this blood and gore.
December 31
Well, it’s New Year’s and I need to make a resolution. I’ve thought a lot about it and so I want to vow to:
1: Try to get Sarah out of France
2: Eat less popcorn
3: Make a difference
4: Keep my room clean
5: Study more
Mommy and Daddy let me have friends over tonight and they had friends over too. Daddy said we shouldn’t just sit in the dark and be depressed. So I invited Marcie and Elizabeth for a sleepover. I was a little worried about how they would get on together but it was never a problem. It was a high-spirited party. We sang songs around the piano and the grown-ups danced. Daddy made a little speech and said he hoped that by next year Canada would prove what a wonderful nation it is, by not only fighting the Nazis, but by allowing desperate people to flee those Nazis and come and live here with us. He gave me a little wink and I felt better, imagining Sarah right here next year, celebrating the New Year with us.
But since my friends are still here, I’ll write more tomorrow!
It was sad when we all sang “Auld Lang Syne,” though. I don’t think there was a dry eye — probably in the whole city!
1942
January 1942
January 1
Daddy took me and my friends roller skating today. We had fun but I had a hard time getting over the worry — the first lists came out from Hong Kong. There is one Grenadier listed as missing and eleven Canadians listed as wounded, but Morris wasn’t on the list. So we wait.
Well, actually, diary, here’s the rub. I didn’t really have trouble getting over my worry — we had a fabulous time, all the more so since Paul was there with Terry and Josh. Have I told you how cute Paul is? He has freckles all over his face and bright red hair and a big smile. He’s a bit shy, but I like that. The six of us skated together and I think Josh and Marcie hit it off and Elizabeth and Terry, even though Elizabeth says she likes Marvin more. We had loads of fun and I forgot about everything else and then when I got home I felt guilty. Mommy had spent the day writing letters to every MP she could think of, as well as the prime minister. She wants answers about what has happened to the Canadians in Hong Kong and she wants answers now.
The paper says that there was a grand New Year’s celebration in London last night. I wonder if Adam was there. They said that 3000 people were in Piccadilly Circus for midnight, singing “Auld Lang Syne” just as we did.
Oh, and I forgot to write that Winston Churchill is right here in Canada and he says that the soldiers in Hong Kong gave them precious days to defend the Far East. I’m cutting that out of the paper for Morris — so he’ll see when he gets home how everyone was thinking about him and the others there.
January 4
I had my tea today. We had fun and it all went almost like clockwork. The girls came over at 9 this morning and we made peanut butter sandwiches, pickle sandwiches and tomato sandwiches. We baked peanut butter cookies — see the theme? — and also I bought penny candies at the drugstore. Almost my entire class came as well as my class from Aberdeen. They kept apart as if they were two teams. But I charged everyone a dime to come and so we made quite a lot of money, which I will donate to the Red Cross. Am too tired to write any more — but am going to sleep happy. Tomorrow back to school.
January 6
Today was the coldest day of the year so far, -33! The walk to school felt like being out in a great big freezer, except it was a windy freezer. I couldn’t believe all the secretaries and others waiting for the streetcar in their little hats and chiffon hose and high heels. When I’m grown up I’ll wear a big parka and moccasins to work. Yeesh. I wore my toque and big scarf and boots and warmest coat and I was still frozen by the time I got to school. And then I had to wait for the streetcar for ballet after school and that was no fun at all. I walked over to the Curry Bldg. after class though and Daddy drove me home. But first as a special treat he took me to The Chocolate Shop for hot chocolate. Mmmm, that was good. At school Mrs. Davis told us that a Winnipeg pilot had done some heavy damage to two German supply ships. We w
ere all very excited. And the pilot and his crew returned to base safely, too. She also discussed President Roosevelt’s war plans and read to us from his latest speech. He said that just like the people in London, “We can take it. And what’s more we can give it back.” All the kids in class clapped as she read.
January 9
A letter arrived from Sarah, again tucked in with mail from Uncle Nathaniel. Daddy says he must have a person who smuggles these letters out for him regularly. And that we’re lucky he does.
Chère Devorah,
Our worst fears came to pass. It was the middle of the night on the 12 of December and we were woken from our sleep. Three huge bangs on the door. Scared me to death. I crept to my door and peered down the hall, too frightened to move. And then I heard the sound one most dreads here, someone speaking in German — well, not speaking, shouting. Maman ran to my room and told me to keep the door closed and not to come out. She told Rachel the same. And within minutes, she came to my door and sank down on my bed weeping. “They’ve taken him,” she said. “Where?” Rachel asked, coming in. “To Drancy. Arrested.”
And only days later the Germans executed 95 hostages and 53 were Jews. We didn’t know if Papa had been one of them; we could get no news. Then one day a week later, he suddenly appeared. They’d released him. He refuses to say anything about what happened to him. He says almost nothing. He sits and stares at the trees on the boulevard, bare of leaves, forlorn and dreary.
I can hardly sleep anymore. I keep hearing that sound over and over. The pounding on the door. Sometimes I feel the sound will explode in my brain.
Chère Devorah, what is wrong with the world? I don’t understand any of this. Do you?
Your loving cousin,
Sarah
The letter from Uncle Nathaniel told of being arrested, but little else, except another question about how the visas are going. I can hear Mommy pacing back and forth downstairs right now, her voice raised, probably railing to Daddy about our government and why they won’t let our family join us.
