My father spent almost 7 years in the camp and said that he no longer had any hope of starting a family. But he was lucky to survive.
After returning from the camp, he met my mother and they decided to get married. However, they had no way of buying wedding rings. At that time, my father, using his skills, turned Polish silver coins into rings. Although the Polish money lost its value, the metal did not.

My grandfather didn’t like talking about those times, if he did, it was good stories about people who helped him survive. But I remember that as a little girl I would wake up at night because my grandfather had nightmares and screamed.

All these topics were taboo in our family. My mother recalled that it was always like this – when someone started telling a story, everyone fell silent and hung on every word.

It was only after some time that I learned what nightmares my grandfather had to go through and how miraculous it was that despite everything he managed to come back and maintain his faith in people, love for the world and nature.

My grandmother often recalled the story of a woman from the village. Her beloved was taken to a camp, and from there he ended up in Kazakhstan. The man did not want to go back and wrote many letters, asking his girlfriend to come to him. But she refused, saying that she had a whole farm here, a cow... and asked him to come back. After some time, the man sent her all the letters, along with her photograph. My grandmother told me that one night they spent the night together in the house and my grandmother woke up to see the woman crying. My grandmother felt very sorry for her - it was always a story full of pain.