Mitzi,

You were our housekeeper and my nanny for the first six years of my life.
You were the most important person in my young years. I saw more of you than of either of my parents.

Each weekday morning, you walked me to kindergarten and then picked me up again for lunch. We walked towards our apartment at the edge of the Danube Canal through the colorful streets of Vienna. You prepared my lunch, tucked me in for a nap, and later played games with me till you prepared supper. I took your presence and care for granted.

After “Kristal Nacht”, you disappeared from my life and I missed you terribly. I cried and prayed for your return but soon we were forced to leave our apartment and I was sure you would never find us again.

One cold February afternoon, there was a knock on our door—a knock always sent shivers of fear into our souls—but when my mother opened the door, it was you, Mitzi. You had a spray of lillies of the valley in your hand and a Happy Birthday greeting on your lips for me. It was my 7th birthday and I was filled with joy for the first time in many months.

Two months went by when, once more, there was a knock on the door. We were not as fearful that day in April, since we had the precious papers that would allow us to emigrate to the U.S.A. in a few days. The narrow, dank room was filled with a shipping box for our belongings to be sent ahead.

You came into the room and announced that you were taking me for a trip to the “Prater”, the huge amusement park in the middle of Vienna. It was against the law for Jews to enter the park but you put a knit hat on my head to hide my dark hair and we were off to the adventure of my young life. You took me on the rides, including the huge Ferris Wheel, treated me to ice cream (a rarity in those days) and we watched the marionette show in the plaza.

I didn’t get a chance to tell you how much I admired your courage and appreciated your love. Having contact with Jews was forbidden, and taking a Jewish child into a public place could have resulted in the arrest of everyone in your family as well as dire punishment for yourself.

I would very much like to thank you for giving me the only really good memory of my childhood days in Vienna and restoring my faith in humanity.

Ruth, age 76