Holocaust survivor hopeful for Canada, despite similarities from past 

I missed going to school, but we still could walk out on the streets. I wasn’t aware in the slightest of what was going on until, in April 1944, my mother sewed a yellow Star of David on my coat. That’s when I felt marked for the first time. Still, I had no inkling of what was to come. I couldn’t understand why we were being singled out. I wondered what we had done — my parents and the other Jews — to warrant it. Even then, my parents didn’t explain anything to me, and I was confused as to why I couldn’t go to school and why we had to wear the star. I don’t remember if I asked questions. If I did, there were no answers provided. I suppose my parents were trying to protect me from fear and the brutal reality of what the rumours suggested. Everything was changing so quickly, it was bewildering.