…It was November, freezing cold, a dark night. What could we do without clothes and shoes? Antos gave my husband an old pair of trousers and we left. My husband took one child on his arms, and Antos took the other, and so we walked from 5 to 8 in the morning without stopping. When the sun rose, the Poles were beginning to come out and so Antos parted from us and asked us to promise that we would return in case of danger, and that he would meanwhile build a new shelter. We met Ukrainians who told us: ‘hide, or you will die’. I told my husband to go on and save himself, and that I would stay behind with the children who were unable to walk anymore. We went to the house of a farmer who had leased our land in the past. He was afraid to hide us. We begged him to allow us to stay at least one day because the children were freezing. The next day we were homeless again. It was terribly cold, the road was slippery and we went from one house to the other, begging for shelter. The children were barefoot. I tore a part of my gown and wrapped their feet. The children cried with cold and hunger. My young boy wept: ‘Mother, why do I have to suffer. Why didn’t I die with the other children.’ I decided to return to Zborow….
…We didn’t meet Antos. His brother put us in a barn. We hadn’t eaten for two days. The cold was terrible and the children were shivering. I broke down and wanted to go to the Germans. My husband forcibly stopped me. Finally Antos came back. At midnight he took us to a new hiding place that he had meanwhile prepared. He gave us bread, butter, vodka and a blanket. Meanwhile the Germans had fixed a price of 500 Zloty for handing in a Jewish adult, and 1,000 Zloty for a Jewish child. The neighbors who had wanted to denounce us were looking for us all over the village. They threatened to search Antos’ house...
...The neighbor kept sending the Germans to him. As time progressed, all farmers denounced the Jews that they had been hiding to the Germans. The Germans arrived at Antos’ and he showed them the [empty] hole in the garden...
When the war front neared Zborow, Anton was evicted from his home before he could give us our daily water ration. The Germans entered his home, and the stable became their headquarters. We trembled with fear, and when our son coughed, we covered his head with a blanket. Anton was very concerned about our fate, and he once walked 20 kilometers back. He threw a piece of bread through the kitchen opening, didn’t manage to get us water and had to escape. We suffered terribly. The thirst was very bad that we drank our own urine. The children broke down and the worst was watching them. Did I suffer all this to die shortly before liberation? The children asked to go to the Germans, but my husband supported us, and so we remained until the Red Army arrived.
