I always put a piece of bread into my pocket from dinner. The grown-ups told us we could always go to the dining room but I didn't believe them. All the children had bread under their pillows.
Our group was taken to Diepholz, Germany where we waited in hot and overcrowded dormitories. Finally one day we were taken to the port of Bremerhaven.
I do not think that I expected much. I was without a family or a country and very little seemed to matter to me, I felt a certain apathy. I reasoned that since I had already been someone else's child, Helena's, then I could be yet another person's child in Canada. All I was told was that I was going to Regina, Saskatchewan, presumably to a Jewish family but I was not sure.