

Irena's Children -a story we should all read.
by  Gavriel HoranIrena Sendler is a 97-year-old Polish woman who saved 2,500 Jewish  children during the Holocaust.
She takes the crying baby  into her arms, turns her back on the hysterical mother, and walks off into the  night. If she's caught, she and the baby will die.
'Promise me my child will  live!' the mother cries desperately after her.
She turns for a moment. 'I  can't promise that. But I can promise that if he stays with you, he will die.'
Irena Sendler is 97 years old. She has seen this image in her dreams  countless times over the years, heard the children's cries as they were pulled  from their mothers' grasp; each time it is another mother screaming behind her.  To the children, she seemed a merciless captor; in truth, she was the agent to  save their lives.
Mrs. Sendler, code name 'Jolanta,' smuggled 2,500 children  out of the Warsaw Ghetto during the last three months before its liquidation.  She found a home for each child. Each was given a new name and a new identity as  a Christian. Others were saving Jewish children, too, but many of those children  were saved only in body; tragically, they disappeared from the Jewish people.  Irena did all she could to ensure that 'her children' would have a future as  part of their own people.
She listed the names of every rescued child  and buried the lists in a jar, hoping that the children could be reunited with  their families after the war.
Mrs. Sendler listed the name and new  identity of every rescued child on thin cigarette papers or tissue paper. She  hid the list in glass jars and buried them under an apple tree in her friend's  backyard. Her hope was to reunite the children with their families after the  war. Indeed, though most of their parents perished in the Warsaw Ghetto or in  Treblinka, those children who had surviving relatives were returned to them  after the war.
Yet Irena Sendler sees herself as anything but a heroine. 'I  only did what was normal. I could have done more,' she says. 'This regret will  follow me to my death.'
Breaking the Silence
Though she received the Yad  Vashem medal for the Righteous Among the Nations in 1965, Irena Sendler's story  was virtually unknown. But in 1999 the silence was broken by some unlikely  candidates: four Protestant high-school girls in rural Kansas. The girls were  looking for a subject for the Kansas State National History Day competition.  Their teacher, Norm Conard, gave them a short paragraph about Mrs. Sendler, from  a 1994 U.S. News & World Report story, 'The Other Schindlers.' Mr. Conard  thought the figures were mistaken. After all, no one had ever heard of this  woman; Schindler, who was so famous, had rescued 1,000 Jews. 250 children seemed  more likely than 2,500.
Conard encouraged the girls to investigate and  unearth the true story. With his help, the girls began to reconstruct the life  of this courageous woman. Searching for her burial records, they discovered, to  their surprise, that she was still alive, ninety years old and living in Warsaw.  The girls compiled many details of Mrs. Sendler's life, which they eventually  made into a short play, 'Life in a Jar.' The play has since been performed  hundreds of times in the United States, Canada, and Poland, and has been  broadcast over radio and television, publicizing the silent heroine to the  world.
Learning to Swim
Irena Sendler was born in 1910 in Otwock, some 15  miles southeast of Warsaw. Her father, a physician and one of the first Polish  Socialists, raised her to respect and love people regardless of their ethnicity  or social status. Many of his patients were poor Jews. When a typhus epidemic  broke out in 1917, he was the only doctor who stayed in the area. He contracted  the disease. His dying words to seven-year-old Irena were, 'If you see someone  drowning, you must jump in and try to save them, even if you don't know how to  swim.'
Even before the war, Irena had strong loyalties towards Jews. In the  1930s, at Warsaw University, she stood up for her Jewish friends. Jews were  forced to sit separately from 'Aryan' students. One day, Irena went to sit on  the Jewish side of the room. When the teacher told her to move, she answered,  'I'm Jewish today.' She was expelled immediately. (Decades later, under  Communist rule, she was considered a subversive; her son and daughter were  refused entry into Warsaw University.)
In fall of 1939, Germany invaded  Poland and began its campaign of mass destruction. Many Poles were quick to side  with the Nazis. Although Jews had never been accepted by the Polish masses, many  of them had fought alongside their Polish countrymen during the few days before  the country was overrun. Now these loyalties meant nothing.
Mrs. Sendler was  a senior administrator in the Warsaw Social Welfare Department, which was in  charge of soup kitchens, located in every district of the city. They distributed  meals and gave financial assistance and other services to the poor, elderly, and  orphans. From 1939-1942, she was involved in acquiring forged documents,  registering many Jews under Christian names so they could receive these  services; she listed them all as typhus and tuberculosis victims, to avoid any  investigations.
It wasn't enough. Irena joined the Zegota, the Council for  Aid to Jews, organized by the Polish underground resistance, operating out of  London with the help of many British Jews. Obtaining a pass from the Warsaw  Epidemic Control Department to enter the Warsaw Ghetto, she smuggled in food,  medicine, and clothing.
Irena decided that the most that could be done  was to try to save the children.
Over 450,000 Jews had been forced into  the small 16-block area that was the Warsaw Ghetto; 5,000 were dying each month.  Irena felt that her efforts were helping only to prolong the suffering, but  doing nothing to save lives. She decided that the most that could be done was to  try to save the children. 'When the war started, all of Poland was drowning in a  sea of blood. But most of all, it affected the Jewish nation. And within that  nation, it was the children who suffered most. That's why we needed to give our  hearts to them,' Sendler said on ABC News.
Breaking Through the Walls
In  1942, Mrs. Sendler, 'Jolanta,' was put in charge of the Children's Division of  Zegota. She and her team of twenty-five organized to smuggle out as many  children as possible from the Ghetto. Ten members were to smuggle children out,  ten were in charge of finding families to take the children, and five were in  charge of obtaining false documents.
The hardest part was convincing parents  to part with their children. Even the many secular Jewish parents shrank from  the thought of surrendering their children into Catholic homes or convents,  where they might be baptized or taught Christian prayers. Many chose to die with  their children instead. Irena, herself a young mother, found it almost  impossibly painful to have to persuade parents to part with their children,  entrusting them to a non-Jewish stranger. The only thing that gave her strength  to withstand this pain was the knowledge that there was no other hope for  survival. Sometimes, she would finally convince the parents, only to be met with  the grandparents' adamant refusal. She would be forced to leave empty-handed,  returning the next day to find that the entire family had been sent to  Treblinka.
Many in the Ghetto thought that Treblinka was a relocation  settlement. Actually, it was even worse than Auschwitz, which was a labor  camp/death camp. Treblinka, on the other hand, contained little more than gas  chambers and ovens. Fighting against time, 'Jolanta,' entered the Ghetto several  times a day, wearing on her arm a yellow Star of David to show her solidarity,  desperately trying to convince parents to let her take their children. Many  parents would ask her why they should trust her. 'You shouldn't trust me,' she  would agree. 'But there's nothing else you can do.'
The second biggest  challenge was finding Polish families. The penalty of death to every family  found harboring a Jew was not always enforced, but some 700 people were killed  because of it. Many of the children had to be hidden in orphanages and convents.  Jolanta would write to them that she had bags of old clothes to donate; among  the old clothes she would hide a child.
Then there was the smuggling of the  children out of the Ghetto. Small children were sedated to keep them from  crying, then hidden inside sacks, boxes, body bags, or coffins. Older children  who could pretend to be ill were taken out in ambulances. Many were smuggled  through sewers or underground tunnels, or taken through an old courthouse or  church next to the Ghetto.
Outside the Ghetto walls, the children were given  false names and documents. Mrs. Sendler claims that no one ever refused to take  a child from her. But children often had to be relocated several times. She  recalls carrying a little boy from one guardian family to the next, as he  sobbed, 'How many mothers can a person have? This is my third!'
The  smuggling did not always go as planned. Fourteen-year-old Renada Zajdman was  smuggled out, but then became separated from her rescuer. She survived on her  own in warehouses for several months, until she was reconnected with members of  Zegota.
She stresses that the goal was not to convert people to  Catholicism, but rather to save lives.
The Church was actively involved  in much of Mrs. Sendler's work. However, she stresses that the goal was not to  convert people to Catholicism, but rather to save lives. Each family had to  promise to return the children to any surviving family members after the war.  Unfortunately, this promise was not always kept. Mrs. Sendler spent years after  the war, with the help of her lists, trying to track down missing children and  reconnect family members.
Of the remaining orphans, some 400 were taken to  Israel with Adolph Berma
n, a leader in Zegota. Many others chose to stay with  their adopted parents. Despite Mrs. Sendler's efforts to trace them, some 400 to  500 children are still missing; presumably they either did not survive or they  are living somewhere in Poland or elsewhere, perhaps unaware of their Jewish  identity.
Discovered!
For two years, Jolanta's covert operations were  successful. Then, in October 20, 1943, the Gestapo caught up with her. She was  arrested, imprisoned in Warsaw's notorious Pawiak prison, and tortured. Her feet  and legs were broken. She still needs crutches and a wheelchair as a result of  those injuries, and still carries the scars of those beatings. She refused to  betray any of her co-conspirators or to reveal the whereabouts of any of the  children.
Jolanta was sentenced to death by firing squad, a sentence that  she accepted with pride. But unbeknown to her, Zegota had bribed one of the  German guards, who helped her to escape at the last moment. He recorded her name  on the list of those who had been executed. On the following day, the Germans  loudly proclaimed the news of her death. She saw posters all over the city  reporting it. The Gestapo eventually found out what had happened; they sent the  guard to fight on the Russian front, a sentence they felt was worse than death.  Irena spent the rest of the war in hiding much like the children she had saved.  Relentlessly pursued by the Gestapo, she continued her rescue efforts in any way  she could, but by then the Warsaw Ghetto had been liquidated.
Due to the  Communist regime's suppression of history and its anti-Semitism, few Poles were  aware of Zegota's work, despite the unveiling of a plaque honoring the  organization, in 1995, near the former Warsaw Ghetto. Mrs. Sendler continued her  life, simply and quietly, continuing to work as a social worker ... until the  discovery by the Kansas teenagers catapulted her into the public arena.
Irena  Sendler was awarded the Order of White Eagle, Poland's highest distinction, in  Warsaw, in 2003. This year, she was nominated to receive the Nobel Peace Prize.  At a special session in Poland's upper house of Parliament, President Lech  Kaczynski announced the unanimous resolution to honor Mrs. Sendler for rescuing  'the most defenseless victims of the Nazi ideology: the Jewish children.' He  referred to her as a 'great heroine who can be justly named for the Nobel Peace  Prize. She deserves great respect from our whole nation.'
Today's Warsaw  still bears testimony to Mrs. Sendler's lifesaving work. The corner store where  children were hidden in the basement and the apple tree where the names of the  children where buried still stand, all within sight of the German army barracks.  Although the children had known her only as Jolanta, as her story became  publicized, she began to receive calls from people who recognized her face from  the photos: 'I remember your face! You took me out of the Ghetto!'
In an  interview earlier this year with ABC News, Mrs. Sendler voiced some of her  frustrations about how little anything has changed in the world: 'After the  Second World War it seemed that humanity understood something, and that nothing  like that would happen again,' Sendler said. 'Humanity has understood nothing.  Religious, tribal, national wars continue. The world continues to be in a sea of  blood.' But she added, 'The world can be better, if there's love, tolerance, and  humility.' 
This article originally appeared in Mishpacha  Magazine
Labels: Irena Sendler, Jewish Children Saved from Nazis