Diary entry from February 20 1943:

To My Daughter Margaret,

I have a feeling I am writing you for the last time. The Nazi’s found our town two months ago, and I have been in hiding ever since. I'm going crazy, imprisoned in my own house. The town is breathlessly waiting in anticipation, and this anticipation is the worst of all. I wish it would end already! This torment; this is hell…your father has been missing for three weeks. I am not sure whether to pray that he is alive or dead. I am not sure whether to pray at all. I am alone now…I try to escape from these thoughts, of the next day, but they keep haunting me like nagging flies. If only I could say it's over, you only die once. But I can't, because despite all these atrocities I want to live, and wait for the following day. I want to wait for you…I am also worried for my sister, your aunt, Marie, and her family. She lived in Mariampol, not too far from here. I have heard the fate of the Jews who were left there was terrible. Those who did not save themselves were all shot all put in one large grave: all together, children, men, women and elders. Everyone was undressed, naked, and shot. Then the hole was covered with lime. The survivors said, for 3 days, the earth over the pit was rising up and down and there was moaning coming out of the grave. There were more than 8000 people in this mass grave…all I can do is wait for the Nazi’s to find me. All I can do is hope I make it long enough to see your beautiful face. All I can do is sit here and wonder…can this be the fate of the Jews?

Your Mother, Rachel