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All of us expected to recover our treasures. . . . Until the end of the storm, they would be safe.<br />

HOLOCAUST EDUCATION IN PEDAGOGY, HISTORY, AND PRACTICE 22<br />

Yes, we were naïve. We could not foresee that the very same evening . . . an excited mob of wellinformed<br />

friendly neighbors would be rushing through the ghetto’s wide-open houses and courtyards,<br />

leaving not a stone or beam unturned, throwing themselves upon the loot. (pp. 220–221)<br />

We can learn a great deal about the Holocaust and its people, even from stories about artefacts we can no<br />

longer see, hold, and examine.<br />

Herz (2014) writes also about photographs that the Jews first took with them as keepsakes and then, once<br />

they were on the trains and feared for their fate, used as note paper for desperate words meant for those left<br />

behind. They threw the photo-notes through cracks in the cattle cars with the hope that Polish passers-by<br />

would find them and help<br />

before / they left / their lives / they left / their pictures / they left / scribbled / frantic / messages / on the<br />

back / in shaky / handwriting / asking / for help.<br />

O so many / Jewish / families — / the / smiling / faces / of the young / and old / scattered / along / the<br />

/ tracks / to the / camps. (p. 65)<br />

Another Herz poem details one such artefact. As the poem’s title indicates, this note, written by a man<br />

named Otto Simmonds to his wife and thrown from a passing cattle car, was “Found in a Crumpled Torn<br />

Envelope on the Tracks to Auschwitz” by a Polish railway worker, who sent it to Mrs. Simmonds in a new<br />

envelope with these words: “Having found this letter on the rails after one of the Jews passed through . . .<br />

hope this letter will reach you.”<br />

My dears, / on the way to Poland!!! / Nothing helped. / Tried everything. /<br />

Allegedly it’s going / to Metz. / Fifty of us in one car!! / Stripped of everything / in Drancy. / Be brave and<br />

courageous. / I’ll be the same. / Kisses, Otto (p. 66)<br />

Even in the ghetto, Jews, even children, had treasured possessions. A survivor named Myra Genn (1995)<br />

remembers what she kept when she was forced into hiding:<br />

I was four years old. My mother woke me suddenly, in the middle of the night, from a deep sleep. It was

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