“A few days after my mother’s arrest, a kind Czech gendarme brought us a message from her. It instructed me to come to the barricade near the prison at two o’clock in the afternoon and chat with the Jewish Ghettowachmann—a ghetto policeman—standing guard there. Using a chain that hung from the narrow window at the top of her cell, she planned to hoist herself up and try to catch a glimpse of me. I went to the barricade every afternoon; it was very cold, and I stood there talking with the guard, never knowing whether my mother could see me. I later learned that she could see me, and that it gave her a tremendous boost.”