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I was the most miserable person in the world. I would go
to church and spill out my anguish before the Holy Mother, and ask for a solution to this vicious circle. There, without witnesses, I allowed my tears to flow freely. At home, scenes and hate and pressure from him [Gershon Jonisz]. Finally, I began to think. If her mother were alive, I am sure we would have agreed to something between us and lived together, or I would have turned over the child to her without hesitation and in complete tranquility.
I would have satisfied myself that we could visit one another. We would have educated her together. But to turn her over to a man whom I hardly know, in spite of the fact that he is her father? Who will understand her? Who will have the same patience and devotion? Who will dry her tears during times of sadness and pain? A man would certainly not understand this. Men are egocentric and only think about their own comfort. They lack a motherly feeling – even the best of fathers. But I knew I had to give her up.
Hadn't Bolek been in a concentration camp, I would have taken Jonisz's money and disappeared with her so that no one could have found us. I wouldn't have registered anywhere. But I felt sorry for Bolek, although I was indifferent to him. I realized that I was offensive to him. Can you understand my conflict?
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