I did not recognize the woman's voice on my answering machine, with its thick European accent and apologetic tone.
Nor did I view the fact that I had just finished teaching a course on Holocaust literature as anything significant at the time.
But once I met Gabrielle Schneider, I knew it was more than chance that caused her to call me to help her publish a book she had written about her life.
I'll admit that at first I was reluctant to call her back. I was over my head in work and was leaving for a trip in a few days. But I left her message on my machine and replayed it several times throughout the day. Something about her voice haunted me, and for reasons that I still don't understand, I knew that returning her call would change my life. And I was right, because it did.
From the first time I met her, she captured my heart. I stood on her doorstep and watched through the window as Gabrielle, barely 5 feet tall and burdened by arthritis and numerous aches and pains, struggled to get out of her chair to greet me.
We walked into her dining area where the table was set with a plate of cookies, some mineral water and a box of candies. I sat across from her, her face framed by the paintings that covered the wall behind her. These, I have since learned, are the labors of her life: oil paintings with ceramic sculptures embedded in the canvas, depicting images of the darkest days of her life.
She is animated one minute, telling me about when she first met Mr. Schneider, her husband of 40 years, and pensive the next, her eyes resting on the photo of her sister whom she held in her lap as she lay dying in Bergen-Belsen. And when she reminisces about her childhood, before the Nazis destroyed it, there is coyness in the way she holds her head, and a girlish blush colors her cheeks.
Gabrielle draws me into her world; her effect is both mesmerizing and charming. She is physically limited and can no longer drive, but that doesn't stop her from getting what she needs. Her strength comes from years of being willful and determined against the most impossible of odds. But her generosity of spirit - that is what touches me most. She has lived through years of extreme deprivation, losing so much when she was so young, but she is generous, loving and giving to a fault. I have never left her house without her handing me something special or beautiful as a keepsake.
I look at her wide-open face and a line I read from "The History of Love" comes back to me. "Show me a Jew that survives and I'll show you a magician."
Throughout her 83 years, Gabrielle has worked her magic on those around her. I am convinced that is why she survived and why she couldn't rest until her story was told.
For many years after the war, few people in Israel spoke or wrote about the Nazi atrocities, forcing survivors to cope with their nightmares in silence.
One person who understood the significance of survivors telling their stories was David Ben-Gurion, who knew that for his fledgling country to begin to heal, survivors had to speak out.
For this reason, he decided in 1962 to televise the trial of Adolph Eichmann, the first ever to be televised in history. For four grueling months, hundreds of survivors relived their nightmares while the world looked on in horror and disbelief.
Since that time, hundreds of personal stories, memoirs, novels and films have been brought to the world's attention. After filming "Schindler's List," Steven Spielberg established "Survivors of the Shoah Visual History" to document the stories and experiences of survivors and witnesses to make certain they were never lost.
Today, over 52,000 testimonies in 32 different languages from people in 56 countries fill these archives. Gabrielle's story is one of them.
But she has taken it one step further: She has written and self-published a book of stories together with her paintings titled "Andor Kept His Promise from the Grave." It is the testimony of a life lived with courage, humor, inspiration and love, told by a woman who has survived humanity's darkest hours but has never stopped believing in the goodness of people.
Her book is available for $18 at the Tucson Jewish Federation (520-577-9393) and will be available this spring at the Tucson Jewish Community Center (520-299-3000). In keeping with Gabrielle's generous nature, all proceeds will be donated back to the JCC.
When Gabrielle--who lived in Phoenix from 1968 to 1982- first called me about her book, I assumed I would have a few limited conversations with her about the publishing world and that would be it. But over the past year, I have gained more from our time together than I ever could have imagined. Her stories, experiences and opinions inspire me to reflect on my own life and choices. The struggles she has endured and the courage she has shown help me view my own struggles in a different light.
I understand clearly now that Gabrielle had to write her book in order to make sense of why she survived when so many others did not.
"I had a duty," she told me recently with tears in her eyes, "because I was the one who survived." And I am so grateful she did.
Amy Hirshberg Lederman is a nationally syndicated columnist, Jewish educator, public speaker and attorney who lives in Tucson. Her book, "To Life! Jewish Reflections on Everyday Living," is available at www.amyhirshberglederman.com.
