The Nazi sheriff needed a horse and carriage to take the remaining Jews of a small Hungarian village to the train that would take them to their concentration camp. He came to the house of a peasant farmer, a non-Jew, and demanded that the man give up his horse and carriage immediately. The problem for the sheriff, though, is that the peasant loved Jews-- many of his friends were Jews.
So he lied.
He told the sheriff that his horse was injured. The sheriff paused for a minute, and then went on his way, saying he'd be back. The man instructed his children to put bandages on one of the horse's legs just in case the sheriff came back. He never did. The Jews who were left, the ones for whom no horse could be found, were saved. Apparently, the Nazis were in a special rush that day.
I heard this story this afternoon from my friend Eva Brown, above, a holocaust survivor who has survived two bouts of cancer in the past three years. I've known Eva for many years; I've seen her at her strongest and at her weakest. The one constant has been her ability to talk. She could be gasping for air and debilitated by the effects of medication, but she could always talk and tell a story.
She loves hearing stories, as well. She heard this story during one of her many medical appointments, from one of the lab technicians who had come to know her. The lab technician was the daughter of the peasant farmer.
The peasant farmer who saved a few Jews just by saying no.
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