Tu Mrs.
Frieda Weinbach
Moghilev, 16/12/1941
Dearest Mrs. Frieda,
From your message to Hermine I can see that you received my letter, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your willingness to help. Unfortunately you don’t seem to be able to do much for us, as every sugar ration and every bit of help we receive seem impossible in the current circumstances. The fact that I haven’t once received even a few lines has made me feel unspeakably depressed and utterly humiliated. All I asked for was to get a reply saying whether we have any hope. In my state of psychological depression and in this situation, which is unspeakable for us, a word of consolation or a glimmer of hope play a major part. I wished so hard that I’d receive a package of food, I didn’t even ask for anything else. My feeling of despair is without bounds and on
top of it all, my poor, elderly father has been taken ill. I can’t tell you how much anguish this is causing me – he is my rock. My poor father is completely incapacitated and I have absolutely no way of caring for him. The food crisis is intensifying at an alarming rate. Even if you have money, that is to say a lot of money, you can’t buy anything. The locals are only interested in parting with something if it’s via an exchange, the smallest exchangeable item being a piece of soap. Unfortunately, I didn’t bring any with me. 1 kg of sugar costs 500 lei, a loaf of bread costs 400 lei, but to get it you’ve got to have contacts, and you’ve got to wait days before you can actually get something for these horrendously high prices. If we’re not allowed to go home soon, we’ll pass away in deprivation from the hunger and the yearning. To live in a hole, but to be able to be at home, that’s all I wish for. We suffer unrelentingly and endure all the hardship with only one thought in our minds – returning home. Every day we regret, along with my parents, that we left, like our poor, dear Thea. We had hoped to be able to build a new life, to be able to work, to eke out a modest living, but that’s impossible here. Dearest, kindest Mrs. Frieda, I’m renewing the requests I made of you in my last letter – for authorization to return home and for food. How are you all, are you in good health, what’s Andi doing? Give my love to Ruzierl. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, and please, I earnestly ask that you grant us your help now. With sincere thanks. Yours, Marie Rudich