One day an expert was brought in to talk to us. When he came in, he took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. When we saw his Auschwitz number, there was a complete hush. I think our silence shocked him a little. He looked at us and finally he said "mein tiere kinder" (Yiddish for "my dear children"), and started to cry. That was the first time I openly shed a tear. I cried for the first time in five years. It was a very emotional time for me.
After that, things changed. From then on I suddenly understood that this was my life and I had to make something of it. My tough attitude was broken. Eventually, a group of about eighty of us was taken to Vesinet, a town outside of Paris, where we attended a regular school. I remained there for about three years and graduated high school. I worked very hard at school I had so much catching up to do.