My father was crying. It was the first time I saw him cry. I had never thought it possible. As for my mother, she was walking, her face a mask, without a word, deep in thought. I looked at my little sister, Tzipora, her blond hair neatly combed, her red coat over her arm: a little girl of seven. On her back a bag too heavy for her. She was clenching her teeth; she already knew it was useless to complain. Here and there, the police were lashing out with their clubs. "Faster!" I had no strength left. The journey had just begun and I already felt so weak
My hand tightened its grip on my father. All I could think of was not to lose him. Not to remain alone.
When families are separated, members live for good (or even bad) news of their relatives. Eliezer decides it is better to lie and give his distant cousin a reason to go on living. Similarly, Eliezer and his father try to convince themselves that their loved ones, Eliezer’s mom and sister, are alive.