Dora's Dreams

By Helen Charendoff

A true story of two young people, Dora and Itsu who were sweethearts during the start of the Holocaust. Dora is violently taken away from her large family, her parents and 10 siblings. Dora is imprisoned for 2 years in concentration camps, where she witnesses horrific atrocities. However, Itsu manages to stay out of captivity.

After the war is over, Dora and Itsu have no knowledge of each other. Have they survived? Where are they?

After an unsuccessful search for Itsu, Dora is pursued by a good man she is about to marry. When Itsu finds this out in an unbelievable way, he rides day and night by motorcycle fighting a horrible rainstorm to stop the wedding…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9781664138995

Book preview

Dora’s Dreams

Helen Charendoff

Copyright © 2020 by Helen Charendoff.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 11/19/2020

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

821852

Contents

Prologue   1942

Part 1   DORA

Chapter 1   2012

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Part 2   IGNAC (ITSU)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Part 3   DORA AND ITSU

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue

To Eleanor with love and gratitude for all your work,

time and patience.

You’re very special to me.

50353.png

PROLOGUE

50367.png

1942

R ACHEL CLUTCHED HER blue silk blouse together and screamed no, no, no. Her mother had bought her that blouse for her eighteenth birthday, and now she held the pearl buttons together tightly.

"No, I’m not going to undress!

We all watched and listened, as she resisted. There was about thirty of us girls and we were stuffed into a square room, void of furniture. It reeked of urine.

BAM! A shot rang out. I gasped as Rachel fell to the ground dead! She was shot dead, right in front of our eyes.

There were 3 soldiers, and clearly, they were not worried about witnesses. No, I’m sure they were just making an example, a warning.

The girls all screamed. Eyes reddened, and they were all weeping. They turned their heads away from Rachel’s body. Her blood was seeping out of the back of her head. One girl retched, turned and threw up in the corner. She was the youngest, I’m sure. I think her name was Esther.

The soldier with the pistol seemed to be the leader. He wore a black uniform, with twin lightning bolts on the collars of the jacket. He was an SS Officer. He was very tall, with blonde hair, steely blue eyes and a square jaw. I remembered that he wore a wedding band on his finger. I wondered, did he have a wife or sister? If so, how could he be so heartless!

He began shouting orders. The other two soldiers looked much younger. They wore very dark green uniforms without any details. They were also tall and looked intimidating and smelled like grease. Perhaps it was what they used to slick down their perfect hair.

Without any feelings they grabbed Rachel’s legs and dragged her lifeless body out. As they pulled her across the floor. Her skirt caught on a nail and tore as they kept moving. Soon she was out of sight. All that remained was a trail of blood, Rachel’s blood was smeared across the wood planks on the floor.

I must have been in shock. I can remember screaming and crying but not out loud, on the inside. I wouldn’t let them see me weep. I did not want them to do this to me.

I became robotic! I would do everything I was told to do in a mechanical way, My arms and legs would move like that of a robot, void of human emotion. I looked down at my new sweater. Itsu had bought it for me just before he left for Budapest. It was pink with cable stitching about the neck and cuffs. I liked it so much!

In that moment when Rachel’s body hit the floor, I was so frightened and realized if I wanted to live, I had to obey and do whatever I was told!

I chose life!

Dare to Dream

50353.png

PART 1

50367.png

DORA

Dora%20Part%201%20Picture.jpg50353.png

CHAPTER 1

50367.png

2012

"M OM, MOM ARE you crying? What’s wrong? Are you all right?

My daughter Helen was hugging me, obviously my behavior had upset her. I didn’t even hear her come in on her daily visit.

No darling, I’m feeling fine. I was watching some TV when I saw a beautiful young woman that looked exactly like someone I knew from the war. She died right in front of us girls, and I haven’t thought about her in maybe seventy years. It’s so painful to remember any of it. Maybe that’s why I haven’t let myself think about any of it

So Mom are you sure you’re okay?

Yes, for some reason I feel fine, maybe I’m ready to talk about it now.

Mom, come on, this might be a great idea! While your memory is still very sharp. I’d love to put the journey of your life into a book or something. You know, a storybook that your grandchildren and great grandchildren can read someday. It mustn’t be forgotten! They should be as proud of you and Daddy as I am! It’s an amazing love story, so let’s get started,

Helen ran to get a notebook. I laughed at her and smiled to myself. Should I do this; could I do this? After all, in my wildest dreams I could never have imagined how extraordinary my life would have turned out. Yes, maybe Helen was right. I’m ready to tell my story. It’s important to be passed down to our family. I’ll share my story with Helen, and she can write it for me. So where shall I begin?

50353.png

CHAPTER 2

50367.png

O N A VERY cold and blustery day in Czechoslovakia, on February 25, 1925,I was born. My name is Dora Gelb. I was the second oldest daughter with four sisters and six brothers.

My mother’s name was Shirley. She was short, stout and very pretty. She had large bosoms, and laughed a lot and when she laughed her bosoms jiggled. Mother had brown curly hair that was always hidden under colourful scarves.

In Judaism, married women weren’t allowed to show their hair outside their home in case they would appear attractive to other men. Thank goodness unmarried girls didn’t have the same restrictions!

Mother was married at sixteen and by twenty, she had her first four children. First came my older brothers, Paul and Morris, then Rose and then me. Just after her 30th birthday, Mother had had all her children.

I would look at her in amazement and wonder how she did it? Where did she get the strength, patience and love for all of us? I loved her so much and secretly hoped I was a little like her.

All of us looked to her for our nourishment, clothing and guidance but most of all her love. If anything was wrong, we would run to her. When anything was right we could hardly wait to share it with her. She gave the best hugs. Mother had this wonderful way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the world!

My father’s name was Manuel. He was a very tall man, well over 6 feet, with a long black beard. He seemed to be a formidable man to many. He had very dark brown eyes which were almost hooded and seemed scary to the little ones. They thought Papa was so stern, almost frightening, but Mother thought him to be a gentle soul.

I personally found him to be quite gentle, quiet and wise. I so enjoyed talking to him. He was studious about the Torah and could apply a great deal of his learnings to everyday living. I was always captivated by his intellect.

At the end of each day, he would have us line up and each take a turn to tell him about our day.

How was school today? was always his first question. Then he would want us to relate one good thing that happened and one bad thing that had occurred that day. He also gave us permission to tattle about one of our siblings daily with no consequences. Funny, it seemed that almost all of us kids would always name the same child – Robbie

Robbie was a real little troublemaker. He had dark curly hair with greenish laughing eyes. If your favourite book, hat or mittens were missing, somehow you always knew Robbie hid it! Mother would say, be patient, he just wants a little attention! Well, he got lots of attention from Papa. It wasn’t good attention, but nevertheless he got lots of it! Robbie was lucky he was so cute!

50353.png

CHAPTER 3

50367.png

O UR HOUSE WAS in a little village with about 400 people living in it. The closest town was called Naug Solursh which meant The Land of Big Grapes. It was about a half hour’s walk away.

Our home consisted mainly of one large room. In the middle of the house was a huge fireplace which was both our furnace for heat and also our stove and oven, for cooking and baking.

The walls were made of logs and clay and the roof was thatched straw. We didn’t have a floor, but my sisters and I would sweep the ground often to keep it neat and tidy.

We would knot rags and make colourful rugs to keep our feet clean and warm.

I remember the pretty curtains Mother had sewn for the windows. We had so much fun making quilts from spare fabrics. Then we would stuff them with duck feathers. They were so nice and cozy, soft and warm on cold winter nights.

There was one big bed for us girls and on the other side of the room a large bed for my brothers. Mother and Papa had a small room off to one side.

When I think back to our nights, it makes me smile so! If one of us girls wanted to turn on her side, she would say time to turn. We would all laugh and then turn together. This exercise went on each night. To say nothing of what went on every night till everyone was happy with the distribution of blankets and quilts.

We grew our own food. We had fruit trees and vegetable gardens. We also had chickens, ducks, geese, sheep and cows.

Each morning before school, the children took turns doing all the chores. They would milk the cows, feed the chickens, sheep and geese, and collect the eggs from the chicken coops.

It was my brothers’ jobs to always keep the flames in our fireplace going especially in the fall and winter.

We could hardly wait for the fruit to be ripe. When the applies were ready, we would wipe them with our aprons and eat the delicious apples and pears till we all had stomach aches!

All of us girls would help by taking care of the younger siblings and helping Mother with the cooking.

One of the fondest memories I have is when I was a little girl, my big sister Rose would carry me over to the kitchen. She would then pull over a chair for me to stand on, so that I might reach the top of the counter and Mother would give me some dough to play with. This was my first memory of learning to bake and cook!

I loved helping Mother in the kitchen, she was absolutely the best cook! If there was a wedding or any special occasion in our community, Mother would send over some dishes of food or cakes and our friends would be so thrilled! She had an amazing reputation for her culinary skills. Our neighbours would say Shirley, the entire street smells so good and inviting when you’re cooking!

She taught us girls to make lots of delicious dishes. There was always such succulent smells of sweet onions, paprika, cabbage, chicken and beef roasting from the kitchen.

My favourite time was when cakes were baking. Cinnamon, vanilla, honey and apples were some of the sweet aromas. Even now, I can close my eyes and conjure up all those scrumptious scents. It still makes my mouth water!

50353.png

CHAPTER 4

50367.png

S OME OF MY favourite memories were that of ‘Shabbos’. Every Friday morning, Mother would start preparing the chicken soup.

We would peel all the vegetables, while she would pluck the feathers off the chickens. Every time we saw this, we would burst out laughing. Seeing these bald chickens seemed so funny to us kids!

Then my sisters and I would braid the dough for the challah breads and paint the tops of the breads with the melted butter to make the tops shiny and then put them in the oven.

Next, we would start on the cakes and cookies. My younger brothers and sisters would wait anxiously for me to remove the cookies. I would warn them to wait for the cookies to cool, but as soon as they would come out of the oven, they would grab them and ultimately burn their little fingers! After some crying, I would kiss their booboos on their burnt little fingers, wipe their tears and then take them for a walk into our village.

First, I wrapped up some cheese and cinnamon buns, and then off we went for a hike to the centre of our village. My little brothers and sisters would get so excited when we heard the din as we were nearing the village. The little bit of hustle and bustle got them running ahead to the cobblestone centre to wait for me.

50353.png

CHAPTER 5

50367.png

T HE CENTRE OF our village consisted of a few shops: a bakery; a butcher shop; a haberdashery; a general store and a shoe repair.

The general store sold a variety of goods, mostly flour, sugar, feed, yards and yards of fabric and candy. Most of the women in our village made their own clothes.

Smack in the middle, was a cobblestone centre with