December 12, 1937

Rebecca Skindler picked up her leather bag, which carried her clothes, and Isaac, her stuffed lion, and hurried to the small car parked on the street. How could her family have gone from being a rich Jewish family to having one bag full of just clothes and being driven off to live in another country? Rebecca sighed and tugged on her headscarf, which covered her black hair.

“Come, Rebecca,” Rebecca’s mama, Miriam, whispered, opening the car’s blue door.

Rebecca slid inside and watched her papa, Jacob, lock her house’s door. He walked over and spoke to the man in the front seat, Doctor Donovick, who was arranging the transport to Warsaw in Poland. Doctor Donovick was a Gentile and was still one of the richest people in all of Frankfurt. He even had a car.

The car is the only thing good about leaving Germany, Rebecca thought, sinking lower in her seat. She didn’t care if the Nazis were being unfair, Frankfurt was her home.

Papa climbed in the front seat with Doctor Donovick. He smiled at Mama, and to Rebecca he said, “Rebecca, I know it’s hard, but I want you to be safe.”

The car started, and Rebecca Skidler’s house grew smaller and smaller, and the blue car drove off into the slowly lightening sky.