Born in Łódź, Poland, my grandmother Eva Moskovitz grew up in a large and loving family. Before the war, there were fifteen members of her immediate family. By the end of the Holocaust, only a handful of siblings remained. During their imprisonment in Auschwitz and later Bergen-Belsen, they witnessed unimaginable suffering. My great-grandmother held one of her daughters as she died during transport to Auschwitz.
Throughout the war, my grandmother and her siblings did everything they could to remain together. They even changed their birthdays in the hope that the Nazis would classify them in the same age group. They understood that there was strength in numbers.
My great-aunt Genya stayed with my grandmother Eva throughout the war. In April of 1945, just days before liberation, my grandmother was gravely ill with typhoid and close to death. Her body had been weakened by years of starvation and forced labor. Refusing to give up on her sister, Genya risked her life by crossing a road under guard to search for food. She found several decaying potatoes and brought them back to Eva. Our family believes those half-rotten potatoes helped keep my grandmother alive until she received medical treatment after liberation.
As a third-generation survivor, I carry not only the trauma of my family’s past, but also the values that sustained them: loyalty, resilience, and loving kindness.
I often think about what Genya must have felt in that moment. After years of hunger, she could easily have kept the potatoes for herself. Instead, she chose her sister’s life over her own immediate needs. Her courage, compassion, and fierce loyalty continue to inspire me.
One of Judaism’s central values is chesed, or loving kindness. True chesed is more than a thoughtful gesture or charitable donation. It is the willingness to show up for another person, even in the darkest moments. By refusing to abandon her sister, Genya preserved my grandmother’s dignity and, in doing so, affirmed her own.
My memories of my grandmother Eva are limited. She died when I was in first grade after years of suffering from post-traumatic stress, dementia, and Alzheimer’s disease. Although I knew her only briefly, her story has remained central to my identity. I am deeply grateful to my cousin Sally, Genya’s daughter, for preserving these family memories and sharing them with me.
As a third-generation survivor, I carry not only the trauma of my family’s past, but also the values that sustained them: loyalty, resilience, and loving kindness. When I think about my grandmother and Aunt Genya, I am reminded that survival was not only about enduring suffering. It was about choosing to care for one another, even when doing so required extraordinary sacrifice.
