Most accounts of the Holocaust end at liberation.  The American troops free people on a death march.  The partisans emerge from the forest.  But then what?  For many Jews, there was no home to return to. Survivors erroneously believed that once the world learned the full extent of their suffering, they would open their gates to them. The “assembly centers” in occupied Germany became displaced persons camps that housed stateless Jews for years.  The last Jewish DP camp, Foehrenwald, near Munich, only closed in 1957.

Although no survivor would have chosen to stay for even a day in the land of their murderers, something remarkable was to transpire. Despite living in often uncomfortable and crowded conditions, they were now among others who had also endured the very worst times imaginable. As weeks turned to months, and months to years, they created thriving centers of Jewish life, religion and culture.  

My Holocaust survivor parents, like many others, met and fell in love in one such camp, and made life long friendships there. The stories I heard about those years led to a yearning to uncover the mystery of how they were able to move from despair to hope. During their lives, Holocaust survivors rarely drew attention to themselves but built monuments and museums to commemorate the six million lives that were brutally extinguished.  Now it is the turn of their descendants to illuminate a quiet heroism – one founded on the willingness after dark times to reaffirm and renew faith, culture and belief in a better future. This is a story of hope for our unsettled times.