During the Holocaust, my mother was a
young woman with a small son. They were refugees in Russia having
fled from the Naziís in Poland.
My mother did everything she could in order to
feed both herself and her son, who went to bed each night with a small
crust of bread under his pillow.
She had traded goods in the black market for
some material, with this she intended to get food from a nearby farm.
When she reached the farm, the people were very
kind. They fed her and filled her small sled with wonderful grains
and vegetables. She was elated.
When she was headed home it started to snow so
heavily that the small sled became stuck, and she was unable to move any
God she prayed, what will happen to my little
boy, please protect him.
Suddenly a large sled with a horse appeared.
The man in the sled had a fur covering his legs, and ice hanging from his
handle bar moustache. What are you doing here he asked.....where
do you live?
My mother couldnít believe her luck. He
took her along with her small sled and food right to her door. It was only
right to invite him in for some hot tea.
When she turned around to thank him and invite
him in, he was gone. No trace of him could be found.
My mother is convinced he was her angel, and
the answer to her prayer.....and so do I.