Personal Narrative: Myself As A Child In The Holocaust

Words: 546
Pages: 3

On most mornings, without fail, I wake up to breakfast on the table. Usually, my grandmother, or babushka as I call her, has oatmeal, porridge, or some other Russian staple she served to my older brothers and sisters, and before that, my mother when she was growing up in the Soviet Union. At 84-years-young, my grandma is still resilient and has been since she was a child in the Holocaust—and in many ways shapes who I am today.
When I was younger, I was afraid of telling people who I was. People knew I spoke Russian, but nobody knew my family was Jewish. I would occasionally hear anti-Semitic statements at school, and people saying horrible things about Jews and Israel in front of me without knowing I was Jewish. After hearing what others were
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Her story taught me to live life to the fullest and be true to myself, as she as a Jewish person couldn’t tell people her true identity. I am no longer afraid of admitting who I am and am not afraid of speaking up. If you knew me a couple years ago, I would not say anything and just step away when someone was bullied, but now I am different. I not only stand up for myself as a Jew, I also stand up for others when I see there is injustice. Thanks to my grandma, I respect everyone.
Babushka’s story taught me to appreciate everything I had. Compared to her I am privileged and can do everything I put my mind to. I can be anyone I dream to be. Whenever I struggle in dance, school, or anything else, I remind myself that I have it good. On my rough days, l can still be seen smiling because I am glad to be safe, loved, and can receive an education.
Over time, I became truly grateful for my grandma's wisdom. Not everyone can say they have a babushka that survived the Holocaust. Not everyone can say their babushka cares for them as much as mine does, or changed how they look upon the world. I can. Knowing, and understanding her experiences have made me a stronger and better person, and I thank her for that