Personal Narrative: When They Took My Parents Away

When They Took My Parents Away

Taeja Wilson

Buchtel CLC- Grade 10

Word Count- 922

When They Took My Parents Away

“It was June 23, 1935. I was in my room, playing with my fingers, running them through my tangled hair. Mother had always kept me company while father was out at work, but today I saw her writing in her diary vigorously. My mother only writes in her journal like that when something is bothering her. As I was going towards her to see what the bother was, the German policemen busted through the door. They grabbed my mother, holding her down with all of their might while they went through everything, looking for weapons.

While all this was happening, I was hiding under the secret plank in the middle of the floor in my room. When

No more tears came. Finally at around 7 o’clock after our common dinner of bread and berries, my mother told me that my father would never return to us. As a nine year old little girl I was heartbroken. How could these Nazi’s take my father away just because he was different from them? Then I had to remember that our leader was Hitler. Adolf Hitler. A man who was full of hatred and would do anything and everything in his power,(which was anything, he was the dictator), to get what he wanted. When my mother told me the news I went looking, searching for anything that was my father’s. Anything that I could keep and cherish for the rest of my

I didn't want anyone to know that I had found it. Not even my mother. The hidden plank in my room was my safe place. I would hide in there and read my father’s journal whenever I had the chance. I learned many things from that journal. It had information from years back to 1933, the election of Hitler as chancellor.

In his journal he stated multiple times, things like,”I feel like they are coming for me” and “I know I won’t last much longer”. Also in my readings I found out that the Nazi’s took my father away to a concentration camp. I then knew that he was dead duck. There was no hope. As a Jewish girl I had no rights. I could do nothing and neither could my mother.

Weeks passed and my mother was fighting to dig a deeper hole in my bedroom floor under the secret plank. It was a success. My mother managed to make my seven foot long, four foot wide, and 4 foot deep hole into a small room. I was quite impressed that she had done such a large job in such little time. She never told me why she wanted to make a deeper hole, but I am assuming that it was to hide from the Nazi police when they returned for us. She filled the hole with berries and bread and small parcels of meat that we had. Meat was very scarce in my