The Daughter's Tale

Dear Reader:

Following in the footsteps of my first novel, The German Girl, The Daughter’s Tale tells another forgotten story from World War II—a story that crystallized in my mind the day I met Judith. Judith was only fourteen months old when her family took her aboard the refugee camp St. Louis. After being turned away from Cuba, the US, and Canada like so many others, they arrived in France, where a Catholic family sheltered them until one night, German guards forced her out of the home with her parents and into a provisional internment camp. Their final destination: Auschwitz.

I’ll never forget my visit with Judith in her small, dark apartment in Kew Gardens, Queens. She whispered her story to me, struggling against her failing health. She said she had been relatively happy in the camp with her parents and the other children, until one afternoon, just before everyone was thrown into battered wagons bound for Poland, she found herself in the middle of a forest, holding her father’s hand. Her father came closer and whispered in her ear: “Look up at the treetops.” For an instant, she felt alone. Suddenly, another firm hand, one she didn’t know, took hers. When she turned, her father was gone. She never saw him again.

As I sat there with Judith, transfixed by her words, I felt something blooming inside of me. That afternoon, The Daughter’s Tale was born.

Sincerely,

Armando