As time went on, things became more difficult. We were completely cut off from the rest of the world. My mother was pregnant at the time. I remember that she took my brothers and me aside and tried to explain what was happening. She said, "If we should ever be separated, no matter where you are, you should all make your way back home and we will be a family again." Her words still ring in my ears. One day my mother had to go to the hospital to have the baby. She was taken away and my dad went with her. That is the last I saw of her. She never came home. My dad came home and said we had a baby brother, but I never saw him either. And I don't know what happened to my mother and the baby. I was only eight years old at the time.
One day, my dad said that he had heard that they were going to start deporting people from the ghetto. First the Germans came and picked up all the men, including my father and brothers. I hid with the other family that we were living with under the stairs. Their baby started to cry, so we were found out and taken to a football stadium.