rescued jewish children
Greg (Stan) Shershnevsky
Story told by Ber Shershnevsky
From the 4th book Hands Bringing Life and Bread
...Once they started to look for small children and babies in the Vilnius ghetto (it was forbidden for Jews to give birth in the ghetto)...
Sonia came to the ghetto to Rose and spoke with her for a long time. Rose did not tell me about this conversation, and kept it secret from me. But I had a secret of my own. Some time earlier Sonia had come to our resistance organisation, ready to discuss plans for saving children. She established ties with former members of the VBKP (Western Belarusian Communist Party), and they agreed to help. A train conductor assistant, ill with a severe form of tuberculosis, was supposed to take care of taking our child out.
I found out from Sonia, that there was a woman called Aleksandra Drzewiecka. She was an older woman, former teacher, who was taking care of homeless children by founding them a place in shelters, childless families or keeping them at her place. She would help not only Jewish families. She cared for all unhappy small children, even babies..
The railroad man arranged everything with Aleksandra Drzewiecka. After a day or two he came to the ghetto. If he had a suitcase in his hand, everything was fine; if he was without a suitcase, we would have to wait longer.
Together with Rose, I was standing each day near the window. We even waited at night, though it was clear, that no one could come after the curfew hour. Finally, our wait was over. We saw him from afar. “He’s carrying it, he’s carrying it!” Rose cried out, and she kissed me, and said something. Suddenly she become quiet, and looked at me with eyes full of fear: “Ber, that’s not a suitcase, that’s a big round bucket! And you know, he put his hand in that bucket a few times!” We understood what he was trying to tell us – we had to take the child out in the bucket.
In the morning, when the Jews were taken to work, the Jewish police would check them. It was very formal. However in the evening, those returning were checked by the Germans, to make sure the Jews were not carrying weapons and food products to the ghetto.We waited for Sonia’s sign. And then finally that day came…
It was dark and misty. People in the ghetto were already getting ready to go to work, standing near the gates. Rose had already in the night put everything into the bucket that was needed, so the child would be warm and comfortable...
Then, we hid the child in the bucket. Rose stood and looked, and looked… I don’t remember if my little son was sleeping. I just remember that he was smiling. Perhaps dreaming? Perhaps he felt the glance of his mother? Maybe... I asked Rose, and hurried: “Cover him, I have to go”. But she didn’t pay any attention. As if she hadn’t heard me. I touched her shoulder. She turned, and looked at me – what the pain in her eyes! Now I understand: she knew that she had seen her son for the last time, that she would never be able to hug him again. She felt that in her heart. Rose began to get ready. “You’re not going,” I said to her, “you’ll start crying, you know, how that could end”. “Go! Take him. Go, go!” And it worked. They weren’t checked at the gates. Many people went to work. Some knew what I was carrying in the bucket. I put the bucket on a sidewalk beyond the fence and walked further. The child didn’t cry. No one approached. There was a note in the bucket: “For God’s sake, take care of my child. I can’t go with him to my parents. I don’t have anywhere to put him. Take the child, help the poor mother...”
Gradually people started gathering around the bucket. They discussed what to do. Aleksandra Drzewiecka passed through the crowd and without asking took the bucket. “I will take [the child] to the family that is looking for a child”. No one opposed this...
So that was how little Stasik – Aleksandra Drzewiecka had given him that name even before she reached her home - found himself in the half-cellar at Užupio 5. Stanislovas Marijonas Kostka now was the name of Ber and Rose Shershnevsky’s son. Sometimes Aleksandra Drzewiecka would come with the child’s stroller near the ghetto fence. His mother saw her son through the window a few times. She strained to look – to see her son for at least a second, to remember...
The Vilna Gaon State Jewish Museum
From the 4th book Hands Bringing Life and Bread
...Once they started to look for small children and babies in the Vilnius ghetto (it was forbidden for Jews to give birth in the ghetto)...
Sonia came to the ghetto to Rose and spoke with her for a long time. Rose did not tell me about this conversation, and kept it secret from me. But I had a secret of my own. Some time earlier Sonia had come to our resistance organisation, ready to discuss plans for saving children. She established ties with former members of the VBKP (Western Belarusian Communist Party), and they agreed to help. A train conductor assistant, ill with a severe form of tuberculosis, was supposed to take care of taking our child out.
I found out from Sonia, that there was a woman called Aleksandra Drzewiecka. She was an older woman, former teacher, who was taking care of homeless children by founding them a place in shelters, childless families or keeping them at her place. She would help not only Jewish families. She cared for all unhappy small children, even babies..
The railroad man arranged everything with Aleksandra Drzewiecka. After a day or two he came to the ghetto. If he had a suitcase in his hand, everything was fine; if he was without a suitcase, we would have to wait longer.
Together with Rose, I was standing each day near the window. We even waited at night, though it was clear, that no one could come after the curfew hour. Finally, our wait was over. We saw him from afar. “He’s carrying it, he’s carrying it!” Rose cried out, and she kissed me, and said something. Suddenly she become quiet, and looked at me with eyes full of fear: “Ber, that’s not a suitcase, that’s a big round bucket! And you know, he put his hand in that bucket a few times!” We understood what he was trying to tell us – we had to take the child out in the bucket.
In the morning, when the Jews were taken to work, the Jewish police would check them. It was very formal. However in the evening, those returning were checked by the Germans, to make sure the Jews were not carrying weapons and food products to the ghetto.We waited for Sonia’s sign. And then finally that day came…
It was dark and misty. People in the ghetto were already getting ready to go to work, standing near the gates. Rose had already in the night put everything into the bucket that was needed, so the child would be warm and comfortable...
Then, we hid the child in the bucket. Rose stood and looked, and looked… I don’t remember if my little son was sleeping. I just remember that he was smiling. Perhaps dreaming? Perhaps he felt the glance of his mother? Maybe... I asked Rose, and hurried: “Cover him, I have to go”. But she didn’t pay any attention. As if she hadn’t heard me. I touched her shoulder. She turned, and looked at me – what the pain in her eyes! Now I understand: she knew that she had seen her son for the last time, that she would never be able to hug him again. She felt that in her heart. Rose began to get ready. “You’re not going,” I said to her, “you’ll start crying, you know, how that could end”. “Go! Take him. Go, go!” And it worked. They weren’t checked at the gates. Many people went to work. Some knew what I was carrying in the bucket. I put the bucket on a sidewalk beyond the fence and walked further. The child didn’t cry. No one approached. There was a note in the bucket: “For God’s sake, take care of my child. I can’t go with him to my parents. I don’t have anywhere to put him. Take the child, help the poor mother...”
Gradually people started gathering around the bucket. They discussed what to do. Aleksandra Drzewiecka passed through the crowd and without asking took the bucket. “I will take [the child] to the family that is looking for a child”. No one opposed this...
So that was how little Stasik – Aleksandra Drzewiecka had given him that name even before she reached her home - found himself in the half-cellar at Užupio 5. Stanislovas Marijonas Kostka now was the name of Ber and Rose Shershnevsky’s son. Sometimes Aleksandra Drzewiecka would come with the child’s stroller near the ghetto fence. His mother saw her son through the window a few times. She strained to look – to see her son for at least a second, to remember...
The Vilna Gaon State Jewish Museum