“You’re young and strong, and you need the nourishment far more than I do, my brother.” Father Kolbe’s voice held no resentment. There was no fear, either, only kindness.

The young man needed no more encouragement. He transferred Father Kolbe’s soup to his own bowl and walked away, looking pleased with his conquests. Father Kolbe returned to my side and offered me a small smile. He didn’t say anything, unaware I’d witnessed the exchange, unaware I was targeted by the same prisoner. I stared into my empty bowl while the anger surging through my veins mixed with astonishment.

In a place where people fought over scraps like rabid dogs, this man retained his humanity. And I couldn’t understand how or why.

* * *

After the evening meal, free time began—the only somewhat bearable part of the day. I hurried to the toilets and washrooms. Ugly ceramic sinks ran the length of the washroom, reminding me of troughs, and I moved to a spigot in the back corner. I cast a discreet glance over my shoulder before filling my bowl and lifting it to my lips. Maybe quenching my thirst would alleviate the emptiness in my stomach.

As I washed my uniform with a tiny piece of soap, I imagined Mama beside me with her clothes submerged in hot water. Back home, I’d sometimes found her armed with a bar of lye soap and a washboard, removing sewage filth from her skirt, blouse, stockings, and shoes. A sign she’d smuggled children from the ghetto the night before.

Mama would insist she could disinfect them herself, but I wouldn’t leave without helping. Together we’d change the water numerous times, scrub every speck of filth from her clothing, and clean ourselves and the bathroom from top to bottom. Once finished, I’d fetch Tata’s clothes and mine so we could wash them and hang them to dry next to Mama’s. Before long, Zofia and Karol would appear with their own dirty clothes, complaining about how Mama refused to use the laundry down the street.

A guard ordered us to hurry, so I donned my damp uniform and departed, rebuking myself for thinking of my family. I knew better.