Enter your search term What are some effects of the holocaust? She walked along the river until a policeman stoppeaner. It was one o CIOCK, he said. Not
the best time to be walking alone by the side of a half-frozen river. He smiled at her, then offered to walk her home. It was the first day
of the new year, 1946, eight and a half months after the British tanks had rumbled into Bergen-Belsen.
That February, my mother turned twenty-six. It was difficult for strangers to believe that she had ever been a concentration camp
inmate. Her face was smooth and round. She wore lipstick and applied mascara to her large dark eyes. She dressed fashionably. But
when she looked into the mirror in the mornings before leaving for work, my mother saw a shell, a mannequin who moved and spoke
but who bore only a superficial resemblance to her real self. The people closest to her had vanished. She had no proof that they were
truly dead. No eyewitnesses had survived to vouch for her husband's death. There was no one living to see her parents die. The lack of
confirmation haunted her. At night before she went to sleep and during the day as she stood pinning dresses she wondered if, by some
chance, her parents had gotten past the Germans or had crawled out of the mass grave into which they had been shot and were living,
old and helpless, somewhere in Poland. What if only one of them had died? What if they had survived and had died of cold or hunger
after she had been liberated, while she was in Celle dancing with British officers?
She did not talk to anyone about these things. No one, she thought, wanted to hear them. She woke up in the mornings, went to work,
bought groceries, went to the Jewish Community Center and to the housing office like a robot.
22) The mother did not discuss her concerns about her loved ones with anyone because she
A. O Thought no one was interested
B. O Felt it was no one's business
C. O Was too shy
D. O Did not know anyone
E. O Didn't want to hurt anyone
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