During my childhood I was surrounded by a warm loving couple of parents, an elder brother and sister and a large number of uncles, aunties and cousins. As a curious child I asked my mother how come she has so many brothers and sisters while my father has no siblings or even parents. The answer I received was “When you grow up we will tell you” and immediately added: “Don’t ask your father about this thing”. I managed to hold back for several days but eventually asked my father: “How come you don’t have any brothers and sisters?” to which he replied: “They were killed by the Nazis. When you grow up I will tell you about it”. 
So for many years he didn’t tell, and kept quiet. He didn’t want his beloved children to face evil. He only wanted to surround us with love and care. The years have gone by and only after I built a family of my own, my father began sharing with me his experience.
A child of a happy Lithuanian family that after the Nazis conquered it was placed in the Ghetto. When he was 14 years old his parents and sister was sent on one of the death marches in the seventh port at the end of which 4000 Jews were murdered. My father remained in the ghetto with his elder brother. They survived due to smuggling potatoes from outside the ghetto, but a year later the Nazis began sending the Jews to the death camps. My father managed to escape to the woods, but was caught after several months and sent to a concentration camp. He heard that his brother was killed and he was the only survivor of his family.
He managed to survive the concentration camp, amid the penal servitude and towards of the war was sent to a refugee camp in Germany. He spent three years, gained physical strength and even played football as a right winger for Maccabi Fohrenwald of Munich.
In 1948 he immigrated to Israel with no possessions and was immediately joined the army to fight. By the end of the War of Independence he was released from the army and started working. With great effort and endless love he managed together with mother Malka, to raise a glorious family. From the day he immigrated to Israel and until his last day he supported Maccabi Tel Aviv. When I was five years old he took me to my first ever football match of Maccabi at Bloomfield and since then I have been a dedicated fan.
