All of My Mums - ebook
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Data wydania:
16 października 2013
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All of My Mums - ebook
"All My Moms" is a book that is part of a series of books telling children about war. A little boy, the hero of this story, takes us by the hand and leads us behind the barbed wire of the Warsaw ghetto. The author shows us the war seen through the eyes of a child, and we rarely look at it from this perspective. The book features Irena Sendler, who saved two and a half thousand children from extermination. Is it possible to oppose evil more beautifully? “Not only in times of war, but also in times of peace, let us help each other selflessly every day, thinking that this is what we were born for,” said Irena Sendler. And that is the message of this book.
From Elżbieta Ficowska (born in 1942 in the Warsaw Ghetto and on the initiative of Irena Sendler, transported as a baby in a wooden box to the Aryan side):
"All My Moms" is a story of a Jewish boy about the cruel, evil world in which he lived during the Holocaust. Szymek also met good people, they rescued him, tried to soothe his fear, despair and terror. Good people, a light in times of contempt. The author does not forget about Irena Sendler, who was in charge of Żegota's action to save Jewish children. The sensitivity with which Renata Piątkowska shows evil and good means that we can safely give this book into the hands of children.
| Kategoria: | Dla dzieci |
| Język: | Angielski |
| Zabezpieczenie: |
Watermark
|
| ISBN: | 978-83-7672-820-9 |
| Rozmiar pliku: | 15 MB |
FRAGMENT KSIĄŻKI
Iam overjoyed that All of My Mums, has found its way to you. On its pages, you will meet the figure of Irena Sendler, an extraordinary woman whose courage and goodness of heart deserves the highest admiration.
When we hear the word ‘hero’, we imagine a brave, gallant man. Not in this case, though. The hero turns out to be a woman who does not need any weapons and is armed only with a steadfast character and brave heart.
During World War II Irena Sendler, together with her colleagues, led more than 2,500 children out of the Warsaw ghetto. Risking her own life, she tried to save the most vulnerable from certain death. But she never allowed anyone to call her a ‘hero’. She claimed that she only did her duty, what she was taught at home. She never perceived it as something unusual. In life you have to do good – that was her motto. What a wonderful example, in our modern times!
I had the great fortune of meeting Mrs. Irena Sendler in person. Towards the end of her life I knighted her Dame of the Order of the Smile, which she accepted with great emotion. I remember her words: ‘I have always preferred to give than to receive. Is there anything more beautiful than the joy in the eyes of the receiver?’ When asked, what is most important in life, she replied: ‘Love, tolerance and humility.’ She also used to say: ‘To make the world better, it is necessary to love every human being. The only division of people which makes sense is the one of the good and the bad. Nationality, religion, education make no difference. And if someone needs help, you have to give him or her a hand.’ When asked, if necessary, if she would rescue German children from the ghetto, she replied without hesitation: Yes!
There are never enough memories of Irena Sendler and this book is just one of them. I am convinced that conversation with children about our history cannot rely only on teaching dry facts and dates. To talk about emotions and human destiny is no less significant. In this case, the destiny of a little boy – Simon Bauman, one of the 2,500 children saved by Mrs. Sendler.
Irena Sendlerowa and Marek Michalak
As the Ombudsman for Children and as a human, I bow my head before Irena Sendler, a woman who, in times of trial, helped the most vulnerable regardless of the circumstances. She fought for children’s right to life, trampled by the war, and the preservation of their identity.
I am aware that it is not possible to enclose Irena Sendler’s story in between the covers of a single book, but any attempt of introducing her to young readers is important and valuable. By getting to know Irena Sandler’s achievements you will learn a lot about respect, modesty and courage. She still remains a model beyond reach.
I remember her as a person sensitive to injustice, always friendly and full of goodness. I would like to be able to kiss the hands of Irena Sendler once again, put her on a pedestal, humble and timid as she always was, shaking her head in a gesture of ‘no, there is no need’.
Judge for yourself, if there is such a need. I invite you all to read All of My Mums.
Marek Michalak
The Ombudsman for Children
The Chancellor of the International Chapter of the Order of the SmileAll of My Mums
Mister Szymon Bauman can be seen in the park every day. He walks along the asphalt paths in his long coat and black hat and when he feels tired he sits down on a bench. He will sit like this for hours. With his eyes closed he looks as if he has dozed off. But he’s not sleeping and probably none of you can guess what he is thinking about. He told me once and it began like this:
‘It’s enough to close my eyes for those images to appear under my eyelids. Some are slightly faded, almost blurred, while others are clearly visible in every detail. They keep coming back and, along with them, a little boy in shorts and lace-up shoes. Those laces annoyed me. Dragging behind me on the ground as I ran across the yard, and when I tried to tie them back I would end up with big knots instead of bows. But why worry about shoe laces when you had to hide behind a dustbin, as my best friend Dawid shelled me from behind the coal shed, shouting:’
‘Bang-bang! Bang-bang! You’re dead!’
‘Not true! You haven’t hit me at all!’ I insisted and clung firmly to the ground.
‘Okay, so now I’ll be running away and you’ll have to catch me’ he commanded, and at once we ran outside the house, brandishing wooden rifles.
Sometimes Dawid pretended to be injured. He would wrap his knee with a handkerchief and limp across the yard moaning:
‘Ouch, you hit me in the leg. It hurts badly. I deserve a medal.’
We made the medals from buttons wrapped in gold foil from chocolate Hanukkah gelt . Because we were both brave generals, at every opportunity we awarded each other a medal. At home we heard time and again that the war was coming, so we decided to keep watch from the tallest tree in our backyard.
‘And what shall we do when we see German soldiers?’ asked Dawid.
‘What do you mean? We’ll tell my dad! Their noses will be out of joint when they see whom they have crossed’ I shouted, because my dad is obviously the strongest in the world. ‘We can also shell them with apple cores’ I added as an afterthought.
‘Or we could be spies’ Dawid always had crazy ideas. ‘We will sneak into their camp at night and take all their pistols. And piss into their helmets, too’ he chuckled.
When we hear the word ‘hero’, we imagine a brave, gallant man. Not in this case, though. The hero turns out to be a woman who does not need any weapons and is armed only with a steadfast character and brave heart.
During World War II Irena Sendler, together with her colleagues, led more than 2,500 children out of the Warsaw ghetto. Risking her own life, she tried to save the most vulnerable from certain death. But she never allowed anyone to call her a ‘hero’. She claimed that she only did her duty, what she was taught at home. She never perceived it as something unusual. In life you have to do good – that was her motto. What a wonderful example, in our modern times!
I had the great fortune of meeting Mrs. Irena Sendler in person. Towards the end of her life I knighted her Dame of the Order of the Smile, which she accepted with great emotion. I remember her words: ‘I have always preferred to give than to receive. Is there anything more beautiful than the joy in the eyes of the receiver?’ When asked, what is most important in life, she replied: ‘Love, tolerance and humility.’ She also used to say: ‘To make the world better, it is necessary to love every human being. The only division of people which makes sense is the one of the good and the bad. Nationality, religion, education make no difference. And if someone needs help, you have to give him or her a hand.’ When asked, if necessary, if she would rescue German children from the ghetto, she replied without hesitation: Yes!
There are never enough memories of Irena Sendler and this book is just one of them. I am convinced that conversation with children about our history cannot rely only on teaching dry facts and dates. To talk about emotions and human destiny is no less significant. In this case, the destiny of a little boy – Simon Bauman, one of the 2,500 children saved by Mrs. Sendler.
Irena Sendlerowa and Marek Michalak
As the Ombudsman for Children and as a human, I bow my head before Irena Sendler, a woman who, in times of trial, helped the most vulnerable regardless of the circumstances. She fought for children’s right to life, trampled by the war, and the preservation of their identity.
I am aware that it is not possible to enclose Irena Sendler’s story in between the covers of a single book, but any attempt of introducing her to young readers is important and valuable. By getting to know Irena Sandler’s achievements you will learn a lot about respect, modesty and courage. She still remains a model beyond reach.
I remember her as a person sensitive to injustice, always friendly and full of goodness. I would like to be able to kiss the hands of Irena Sendler once again, put her on a pedestal, humble and timid as she always was, shaking her head in a gesture of ‘no, there is no need’.
Judge for yourself, if there is such a need. I invite you all to read All of My Mums.
Marek Michalak
The Ombudsman for Children
The Chancellor of the International Chapter of the Order of the SmileAll of My Mums
Mister Szymon Bauman can be seen in the park every day. He walks along the asphalt paths in his long coat and black hat and when he feels tired he sits down on a bench. He will sit like this for hours. With his eyes closed he looks as if he has dozed off. But he’s not sleeping and probably none of you can guess what he is thinking about. He told me once and it began like this:
‘It’s enough to close my eyes for those images to appear under my eyelids. Some are slightly faded, almost blurred, while others are clearly visible in every detail. They keep coming back and, along with them, a little boy in shorts and lace-up shoes. Those laces annoyed me. Dragging behind me on the ground as I ran across the yard, and when I tried to tie them back I would end up with big knots instead of bows. But why worry about shoe laces when you had to hide behind a dustbin, as my best friend Dawid shelled me from behind the coal shed, shouting:’
‘Bang-bang! Bang-bang! You’re dead!’
‘Not true! You haven’t hit me at all!’ I insisted and clung firmly to the ground.
‘Okay, so now I’ll be running away and you’ll have to catch me’ he commanded, and at once we ran outside the house, brandishing wooden rifles.
Sometimes Dawid pretended to be injured. He would wrap his knee with a handkerchief and limp across the yard moaning:
‘Ouch, you hit me in the leg. It hurts badly. I deserve a medal.’
We made the medals from buttons wrapped in gold foil from chocolate Hanukkah gelt . Because we were both brave generals, at every opportunity we awarded each other a medal. At home we heard time and again that the war was coming, so we decided to keep watch from the tallest tree in our backyard.
‘And what shall we do when we see German soldiers?’ asked Dawid.
‘What do you mean? We’ll tell my dad! Their noses will be out of joint when they see whom they have crossed’ I shouted, because my dad is obviously the strongest in the world. ‘We can also shell them with apple cores’ I added as an afterthought.
‘Or we could be spies’ Dawid always had crazy ideas. ‘We will sneak into their camp at night and take all their pistols. And piss into their helmets, too’ he chuckled.
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