Alicia: My Story

В общем,мне хочется рассказать про свой кусок из forensics.

Алиша -девочка-еврейка.
Я живу с ней...живу ей.
Суть в том, что мой кусок который я читаю происходит из ее книги Alicia My story, где она рассказывает все страшные вещи, которые произошли с ней во время Холокоста.
Я правда живу ей, и часто о ней думаю. Мне нравится быть ей, и я хочу донести до моих слушателей все что она пережила и через что она прошла и что это сделала ей. Мне кажется эта девушка уже и правда стала частью меня... и я счастлива, что оно так и есть.
Вот если вам интересно и если вы хорошо говорите по-Английскому языку, можете почитать немного об Алише, из ее уст, ее словами, она говорит о своем опыте:
http://www.annefrankwall.org/holocaustspeakers/profilealicia.html
вот еще ссылка интересная:
http://www.womanlore.com/women_jurman.html
 http://www.allreaders.com/board.asp?BoardID=3074

А еще я хочу написать ей письмо... просто так.
Мнекажется это очень важно помнить таких людей как она и стараться услышать и понять те сообщения, которые они пытаются нам передать.

а это мой кусок:

Midday came and my father did not return. My brother

Zachary spoke, “We should prepare ourselves for the

Worst”.

“No! He is still somewhere: our father is still alive. If you

can’t  find him, I will. And don’t try to stop me!” I ran

over the meadow into the woods. “Papa! It’s Alicia! Papa,

where are you?”

I must have walked for miles and miles, calling and calling.

Hours went by, and my throat was beginning to feel sore,

but I continued walking and calling. Suddenly I felt very

tired and sat down on a log. I don’t know how long  I sat

there, when I suddenly heard a voice calling my name.

I sprang to my feet. “Papa! Papa, I’m here!”

“Stay where you are, I am coming.” Then the figure of my

brother Zachary came into sight. I didn’t look up as he

approached. He reached out and stroked my hair. “It’s

time to go home now”.

“Zachary, do you think Papa is dead? I could not find him.

I could not find anything. Zachary, what will we do without

Papa?”

 

He pulled me up to my feet. “Come on, let’s go home”.

And so we walked together, Zachary put his strong arm

around my shoulder. We never saw our father again. None

of the families of six hundred men ever did.

In the middle of all the death and suffering, a baby boy was

born to the landlord’s daughter, Sarah. They called him

Shmuel. He looked like a little angel there in his crib. Every

opportunity I had I would peek in on him. Baby Shmuel

meant life to us.

One night I heard him crying, and then my mother was

shaking me.

“Alicia, hurry, get dressed, hurry!” I groped for my clothing

In the darkness and joined the people in the bunker. After

We were all inside the bunker, Zachary picked up a candle,

and looked around, and blew it out. It was when total

darkness came upon us that I suddenly realized I hadn’t

seen or heard the baby.

“Zachary, where is the baby? Please tell me, what did they

Do with Shmuel? Where is he?”

“Alicia, we quiet, the baby is in the kitchen hidden behind

The bed. His father took care of him. He fed him strong tea.

He should sleep for a long time. Don’t worry, Shmuel will

 

Be safe”.

But I did worry and I felt a cold fear spreading all over me.

Suddenly, everything around us shook. There was an impact

of footsteps over our heads, and voices in German and

Ukrainian.

“Out, you damn Jews! Get out!”

Then I heard a shot that echoed into the depths of my soul.

There was more slamming of doors, and then quiet.

“Zachary, I will go out and feed Shmuel. I know where his

Mother keeps the bottles of tea. Please Zachary”.

It took Zachary some time to convince Mama to let me go,

But she finally did. I was terribly afraid, but I carefully made

My way to the bed. The bed being out of place puzzled me.

Between the wall and the bed was the baby’s crib. He seemed

To be sleeping quietly. I bent down to pick him up. My hands

Felt his head, and I screamed and screamed and then seemed

To spin into darkness.

Why did they have to kill an innocent baby?

Why?

Life went on and so did the suffering.

One day, in the late afternoon, as I walked up to a group

Gathered on the street corner, when I clearly heard someone

Say,

“Shhh, here comes his sister”

 

“What do you mean, here comes his sister?

I searched each face for an answer.

“Nathan, where is my brother Zachary? You are his best

Friend: you should know. Please tell me.

Nathan looked into my eyes.”Alicia, Zachary has been hung.

I will take you to him. He is at the police station, the one with

The prison”

In front of the building, hanging from a tree, was the lifeless

Body of my brother. His clothes were torn, and all over his

Body were marks of torture. I ran to my brother. I just managed

To touch his legs when I felt a terrible pain in my back.

I pulled myself up to a sitting position and saw a Ukrainian

Policeman pointing his rifle at me. I didn’t really care if he

Shot me right there. I would have welcomed it. I wasn’t afraid.

“Be gone or I shall shoot you.”

“Shoot, shoot, I don’t care!” I screamed for them to take his

Body down, but they wanted all of us to know what they would

Do if we disobeyed. At the moment, all I wanted was to be

Buried next to Zachary.

Months passed, and my brother Herzl had died also. Mother and

I were sent to a camp, where we spent most of our war years.

The word of the liberation spread across camp. Slowly, the

Hope of being free started nourishing my soul.

March 24, 1944. I will always remember that day. The morning

Of the liberation. Our souls were free, but the sadness still

Remained. I pray that all Jews and non-Jews alike may someday

Unite in the result that evil forces will never, never again be

Permitted to set one people against another.

И вообще если честно я очень хотела бы чтобы ОНА услышала как я читаю ее кусок, как я его интерпритирую...