The hardest part was the separation from my mother. I think the shock of that got to me. I think that’s one reason for my memory loss. I wiped it all out

I don’t know at what point I finally stopped feeling guilty, but I always felt I had to live, if only to honour the girl or boy who got sick and whose place I took.

I always felt that I was Jewish. I never wanted to be anything else. I never hid it and didn’t have to.