The thought of returning to Poland, with all its terrible memories and current troubles for Jews, is simply too much for you to bear. From what you have heard via the grapevine, your family has perished in the death camps. There are no good reasons for going back.
So, continuing your march toward freedom, you first enter Austria. You leave the area of the hated death and labor camp at Mauthausen, making your way to the small town of Krimml in the British Occupied Zone. From there, you hike up a long Alpine valley known as the Windbachthal and cross through a mountain pass. The path is wide enough for only one person at a time; any misstep will mean a long fall and certain death. You are very careful, and you arrive safely in the northern Italian town of Prettau in the Valle Aurina. From there, you are more fortunate, as you find buses and trains that will take you southward to Rome.
When you arrive at the Eternal City of Rome, representatives of the Jewish Agency direct you to the Balboa Street Synagogue, where people like you are caring for over five hundred Jewish children. You gladly volunteer to help these orphans; for the first time in six or seven years, you feel that you are doing something worthwhile.
When the children leave for Israel, you accompany them. Your dream of becoming a physician has not dimmed, and you enroll at the Hebrew University to finish your training. When you graduate, you become a pediatrician, working with the children of immigrants in a clinic in Tel Aviv. Your work with the children in Italy and the completion of your medical training have combined to make you a successful doctor — and a happy person.
END