Ursula's Prism

Ursula’s

Prism

By Anna Block

Published by Gihon River Press at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 Anna Block

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Gihon River Press

P.O. Box 88

East Stroudsburg PA. 18301

www.gihonriverpress.com

Cover Design by John Illo

Interior Drawings by Rich Sigberman

This is a work of fiction based on a true story and all people – living or dead – events, dates and situations are made to the best recollection of the author.

The publisher assumes no responsibility for the accuracy..

Acknowledgments

Much gratitude must be expressed to Stephen Feuer of Gihon River Press; of his unwavering belief in the project, his vision, and his ability to delegate. Without your help this story may have been lost. Thank you to Phil Sieradski for his editing and research expertise. And thank you to Maureen MacNeil, Education Director of the Anne Frank Center of New York. I am honored for the addition of your Introduction. I thank all of you for your hard work.

On a more personal note, I wish to thank Sue Tanon, my confidante, the one who spurred me on from the inception of my work. And thank you to Kathy Witmer for being a spiritual guidance and true friend. Thank you both for your immeasurable encouragement and support.

Not enough gratitude can be expressed to my mother. As a child I watched her laugh and dance, never realizing the underlying agony. It was her willingness to share these deeply traumatic moments of her childhood that allowed me to have an even deeper respect for my family and my faith. Her hopes align with mine-that in the telling of these events, maybe we can prevent these atrocities from repeating. Thank you, Mother; I am humbled yet proud to be Ursula’s daughter.

God bless.

Introduction

Stories of children suffering during the Holocaust are difficult to read, yet they often inspire the human spirit to take action. Survivors’ stories teach us that if society fails, we are all responsible: We must become helpers and resisters so history does not repeat itself. Ursula’s Prism, based on a true story imaginatively retold by Ursula’s daughter, Anna Block, is one such story.

It begins with the bustling Swartz family and their nanny at breakfast in Glashütte, just outside Dresden, Germany. Among the happy tumult of five children preparing for their day, Ursula’s mother tells her about the life-long lessons of her special necklace with its crystal prisms: show kindness; think positive thoughts; be strong; and keep an open mind. Soon after, as armed SS soldiers arrest the family, Ursula manages to slip her mother’s necklace into her pocket.

Unexpected helpers and their desire to act against the brutal Nazis appear in the story like the beautiful reflections of the seemingly magical prism. Ursula, her 12 year-old brother Ludwig, along with four other children, manage to escape from Bergen-Belsen and brave the unknown, the bitter winter countryside and starvation. Yet the power of the children’s imagination and their will to live shines on every page.

Like Anne Frank’s diary, the lessons in Ursula’s Prism are many. The children learn that they cannot rely on stereotypes of soldiers and farmers to keep them safe, but must judge each person individually. They find ways to nurture themselves and keep hopeful that circumstances will improve. Ultimately, it is their loyalty to each other, their ability to ask questions, think critically and use their emotional intelligence that enables them to stay alive in the woods day after day.

With this in mind, perhaps the secrets of the necklace that Ursula shares with the other children gives them the resiliency they need to survive. It is my hope that readers of this book will find that they too possess what it takes to resist hate in today’s world, and that they will pass this story along.

Maureen McNeil

Director of Education

The Anne Frank Center USA

A Note from Ursula’s Daughter

For the honor of the Jewish people and nation I offer this tribute: A labor of love dedicated to the victims and survivors of the Holocaust. I submit this reverential work because even after all these years, for the survivors the torment is never over; dreams are haunted by recollections, an innocent gesture or phrase can rekindle a tormenting memory.

Within the pages of this book are my mother’s memories and one must take into account her age at the time of her and her family’s capture. Her childish perception of the tumult that surrounded her may have distorted some factual details, but, can one ever truly comprehend the depths of hatred and fear that plague those who suffered demoralizing atrocities at the hands of another?

Yet, amidst the dreadful, horrifying acts that exemplified the Hitler regime, an opposing power stirred. This power is the emotion that overcomes us when we witness cruelty, the emotion that forces our hearts to cry out for cessation of that inhuman transgression. This power is compassion, a force that moved many—despite great, personal danger—to help the Jews and other victims of Nazi terror to survive.

Compassion dwells within each of us, a gift from our Creator. When we use this power, we lift ourselves to a higher standard—and those we touch. Though socioeconomic conditions or mindsets of ignorance may seek to destroy our compassion for the less fortunate or for those who are different from us, we must still be able to recognize our God-given humanity and overcome this negativity. How? We can start by teaching our children the crystal prism principles.

The crystal prism principles, as introduced in Ursula’s Prism, teach us respect for ourselves and others. Sharing, displaying kindness, having an open mind, having a positive attitude and keeping our word are just the basic moral elements that every human being needs instilled within them. These principles are not new but rather buried in our wounded souls, craving to be set free. If all would practice the principles, a better life would be possible.

This generation and the ones to follow cannot afford to lose their compassion. We must teach it to our children and demonstrate its positive and beneficial qualities. It starts with one—one open heart, one open mind—and then, in a domino effect, all manner of negativity can be squelched.

Can we begin today?

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments

Introduction

A Note from Ursula’s Daughter

Map

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Postscript

Additional information

Chapter One

Ursula awakened as the morning sunlight tickled her eyelids. She teased the sun’s rays, opening one eye ever so slightly. Catching a glimpse of her favorite doll, she sat up in bed and giggled with glee as she reached for it. How could she not love her brand-new doll? Poppa had just made it for her sixth birthday.

See, pumpkin, I made it to look just like you, Poppa said. How truly he had spoken. The heart-shaped porcelain face had rosy cheeks. The head was crowned with a soft pile of strawberry blonde hair that fell in gentle waves to its shoulders. And the eyes were of such a dark blue that they seemed to be black. And now as Ursula looked into the doll’s eyes she was sure she could see her parents’ love beaming back at her.

Her parents, Anna and Frederick Swartz, had owned and operated a small toy factory in Dresden, Germany. The factory’s reputation for finely crafted toys had been handed down for generations. And so they ran a lucrative business that enabled them to have a big house for their family (with separate living quarters for the nanny), in a little town named Glashütte, on the outskirts of Dresden. Anna worked as the company’s bookkeeper and salesperson, while Frederick designed and built the toys and regulated the work of their ten employees. The business had been doing well until the Nazi army urged German citizens to boycott Jewish businesses. Then business took another grevious turn when Frederick and Anna were forced to sign the title of the factory over to the German government. Downtrodden by the criminal siege of their family legacy, but painfully aware of their need for employment, they continued their daily work in the factory.

Many times when Anna and Frederick would arrive at their factory they would find vandals had scrawled graffito on the premises, rotten vegetables smashed against the door, and a few times even worse—feces smeared on the steps. Adding to this intimidation, SS soldiers would creep by in their military vehicles and peer inside the windows.

Go on, leave us alone, Frederick mumbled one day as the military trucks passed by the factory. He turned his head to see his wife standing near him. I guess it’s not enough that we hand our factory over to them. We wear these armbands; we paint the Star of David on our door. He raised his fist and yelled after they had passed. You don’t need to watch us so closely!

It is getting harder to hide things, Anna said, clutching her husband’s arm. Nazi officers often made unexpected visits to scour the pages of the factory’s accounts. I heard a rumor that the SS has questioned the employees.

Do you know what was said? he asked.

No one will admit to anything. But I see it in their eyes, Anna said as she turned to face him, they’re all scared. They’ve probably threatened all of them. Freddie, I’m scared too.

We’ve been sending money to my parents in Switzerland. We’ll contact them and see if it is time for us to move.

She sighed. I know leaving is the best thing to do, but your grandfather built this factory. And my parents, they trust me to take care of them. How can I leave them? She looked at him now with tears streaming down her face.

He took her into his arms. You don’t have to worry about your parents, they are taking matters into their own hands, he assured her, remembering their gazes of satisfaction as Frederick handed them the pills that his in- laws had begged him to obtain. You know we have to leave as soon as possible. He felt her head nodding in agreement. We will get through this.

"Ursula, breakfast is ready," the nanny called.

Coming, she replied. She placed her doll next to the others and commanded Hattie, Now you make sure everyone stays out of trouble.

She skipped out of the room, still in her nightgown. On the way down the hallway she passed her parents’ bedroom. She could see that some of her mother’s jewelry lay on her dresser. Ursula could never resist trying on at least one piece of jewelry. As her eyes scanned the dresser she saw her favorite piece: a prism necklace—a long strand of prism-shaped crystal stones with gold