"This is how my father attempted to save his paintings through the Second World War. The Germans were already in Warsaw. He packed the canvases and paper paintings into bundles. Some which were framed he took out. Some canvases he had to roll into scrolls. He then divided the parcels and entrusted them to 10 Polish, so called, friends. He gave me a list, my sister one, and of course, my mother knew also where the paintings did go.

My father didn't live through the war. He was deported to Majdanek in 1943 by German gestapo and murdered. My sister was murdered in 1943 in Warsaw. I was after the war in Italy. My mother was the one who with the help of a cousin of mine, Sophie Binstock, found [the paintings] in Prague in a cellar across the river Vistula from Warsaw, which my mother eventually brought to me in Italy. This is how I still have the paintings which I brought with me to the USA at the end of 1949 - Miracle."

~George Rynecki (Moshe Rynecki's son)

To see more of Rynecki's paintings click Here or visit www.rynecki.org

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Here are the lyrics to a song which was very popular in the ghettos:

The morning is coming, it's dark outside,

And our bodies are aching.

Old clothes - worn out and looking like rags -

Would hardly keep warm us from freezing.

They chase us all out - no time to sleep,

Our work is hard and repellent.

Why has such a lot fallen to us?

Why does the fate treat us severely?

Our bodies have weakened, our hands have gone numb,

The last of all hopes is dying.

The sound of the song is hard now to hear,

And final moments are near.

But, Jew, don't lose hope completely as yet,

Stand firm, find your courage. And then...

The dawn after terrible darkness will come,

The sun will rise up once again. 

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© Beit Lohamei Haghetaot                                                                © Beit Lohamei Haghetaot

© Beit Lohamei Haghetaot                                                                © Beit Lohamei Haghetaot

"Four Women in a Dormitory" watercolor on paper, "Women working in the Workshop in Terezin Ghetto" pencil on paper, "Barracks" pencil on paper, and "Women Inmates Doing Their Laundry" pencil and charcoal on paper - by Malva Schaleck (1884 - 1944)

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"Perhaps if the sun's tears would sing

against a white stone."

Excerpt from "The Butterfly" written by a child living in the Terezin Ghetto

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© Beit Lohamei Haghetaot

 "Jewish Children Marching in Terezin, 1942" Etching and Aguatint on paper by Leo Haas (1901-1983)

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Here is a poem written by Henryka Lazawart about her children

"THE LITTLE SMUGGLER"

Past walls, past guards

Impudent, hungry, obstinate

I slip by, I run like a cat

At noon, at night, at dawn

In foul weather, a blizzard, the heat of the sun

A hundred times I risk my life

I risk my childish neck.

Under my arm a sack-cloth bag

0n my back a torn rag

My young feet are nimble

In my heart constant fear

But all must be endured

All must be borne

So that you, ladies and gentlemen,

May have your fill of bread tomorrow.

Through walls, through holes, through brick

At night, at dawn, by day

Daring hungry, cunning

I move silently like a shade

if suddenly the hand of fate

Reaches me at this game

’Twill be the usual trap life sets.

You, mother

Don’t wait for me any longer

I won’t come back to you

My voice won’t reach that far

Dust of the street will cover

The lost child’s fate.

Only one grim question

The still face asks

Mummy, who will bring you bread tomorrow?

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© Beit Lohamei Haghetaot

"Deportation from Terezin to Auschwitz" pencil on paper by Karel Fleischmann (1897-1944)

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Read more about Arts in the Ghettos:

Nelly Sachs 

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