by Tarra Light
As my gift of healing unfolded, I began to channel more energy. Hands-on healing draws out darkness and brings in light. Boris taught me to remain calm and centered in the heart. My temptation was to indulge my emotions. My challenge was to rise above the rage, the grief, the degradation.
After these spiritual preparations, I was ready for the practical phase of my training. Boris taught me everything he knew and could remember about nursing, first aid, and medicine. He had studied these subjects at the University of Warsaw fifty years before. He taught me how to examine and diagnose, and how to treat the common ailments in the camp. I learned the basics of first aid and emergency care. We had no books, no charts to study. Boris focused his mind and projected into my third eye simple diagrams of the organs and systems of the body. These pictures I stored in my memory, my mental reference library.
The Wisdom of the Body
THE CELLS OF THE body exhibit a natural intelligence because the consciousness of the Creator is alive within them. The essence of God combines with the essence of the soul to create the sentience of the cells. The innate wisdom of the body functions best without the interference of the mind.
With its instincts for survival, the body can sense danger and protect and defend itself. Without supervision from the mind, the heart keeps beating and the lungs expand and contract. Without the responsibility of regulating biology, the conscious mind is free to explore and create. The mind can trust the wisdom of the body to govern itself.
Water
WATER IS MOTHER NATURE’S remedy for almost every condition. It is the universal elixir that purifies and heals. One liter of clean water could save the life of a small child dehydrated from diarrhea or night sweats. A damp cloth placed on the forehead could reduce fever. Water was needed to clean wounds and treat for shock and loss of blood.
Water for drinking was stored in large wooden barrels. As time passed, the water became stagnant and slimy green with algae. Flies and spiders crawled under the lid and drowned in the reservoir below.
As I lifted my drinking cup, I observed the teeming abundance of life and death floating around in my water. My scientific mind became fascinated with the different kinds of bugs and spiders and how their bodies had adapted for survival. Dead flies floated on the surface, their iridescent green eyes seemingly watching me. The insect wings and spider legs settled to the bottom of the cup, forming a fragile layer of broken bodies. As I examined the layer of insect parts, it occurred to me that if the water could be filtered with a cloth or mesh, most of the debris could be separated out. A portion of the microorganisms would be caught by the cloth.
Water for washing was in short supply. We were unable to keep ourselves clean. As I lay in bed before falling asleep, I learned to identify each woman and girl in my barracks by the distinctive smell of her body odor. Life in captivity stimulated my survival instincts.
Disease
THE LATRINES SERVED AS incubation chambers, fertile breeding grounds for all kinds of germs. The decomposing human waste attracted vermin and flies that carried the microbes of disease to the farthest reaches of Auschwitz.
Disease spread readily from person to person. Due to lack of sanitation and overcrowded living conditions, epidemics and flare-ups were part of everyday reality. Contaminated drinking water caused many to die, especially from dysentery, typhoid fever, and cholera. Overcrowded living conditions contributed to the spread of airborne infections. Sneezing, coughing, and close contact through touching caused many to come down with influenza, tuberculosis, and pneumonia. Lack of adequate water to wash and bathe resulted in outbreaks of hepatitis and cases of tetanus. Malnutrition, chronic fear, and victimization weakened the immune response of the body.
Stomachaches were commonplace, accompanied by nausea and cramping. I watched women run out of my barracks to wretch in the yard, to vomit the rotten food. Soon afterward, they came down with fevers or suffered from diarrhea and ailments of the bowels. Dehydration was a major factor leading to death among young children and the elderly.
Women and girls were vulnerable to the sexual perversity of the iron men. The ongoing threat of sexual violation caused their bodies to produce an excess of adrenalin. Chronic stress resulted in a state of adrenalin poisoning, accompanied by headaches, nausea, and vomiting.
As I comforted dozens of women and girls in the wake of sexual assault, I observed a natural purging response of the body. Within twenty-four hours of a rape, many of the victims threw up to vent their rage and purify themselves of the invasive male energy. The repercussions of rape carried some victims to their graves. Once they discovered sores on their private parts, they knew their days were numbered. It grieved me to watch my sisters suffer the shame and the pain of syphilis and gonorrhea, as I was unable to save them from the scythe of the grim reaper.
Life-Saving Supplies
BORIS WAS A VERSATILE ghost who could change roles readily. From his performance as a professor, he could quickly become a spy or thief. Because of our urgent need for medical supplies, Boris set forth on a mission to find the supplies we required. We prepared a list of what we considered the most necessary instruments and implements.
In the middle of the night, the camp ghost arrived at the officers’ infirmary. He searched the drawers, cabinets, and closets, returning to barracks 12 carrying a small metal box. To camouflage the box from the sight of the guards, he set up a force field of invisibility around it.
Opening the lid of the metal box, I was delighted to find a display of gauze pads, bandages and splints, scissors, surgical thread and needles, surgical knives and lancets, as well as iodine to disinfect wounds and alcohol to clean our instruments. This small box was a treasure chest of life-saving supplies.
I hid the box near my bed, where it would be easily accessible. Lifting a loose board from the floor next to the wall, I exposed a dark cranny, a secret chamber. Here I stored the medical box, a jug of water, a handkerchief with crusts of bread, stones and feathers that I found, and other personal items. I was grateful to have these healing tools, whose value was more precious than gold.
Jezra’s Apprenticeship
Now IT WAS MY turn to teach. I chose Jezra as my healing assistant. As girls close in age, we had developed a rapport and telepathic link. Jezra understood the consequences of our risk. As healers, we were acting in open defiance of Commandant Schuller’s orders. Camp policy was to shoot the sick and wounded, or to let them die without treatment. The punishment for disobedience was death.
The young girl demonstrated the saintly virtues of a sister of mercy—gentleness, patience, compassion, and humility. She wanted to do what was right and true, and acted with courage and conviction. Jezra was my soul sister, and I loved her deeply. Her sweet disposition and elfin grin melted my heart. Although slight of build, she was strong in spiritual qualities.
I asked Jezra to assist me as I made my daily rounds of the camp. She had to be cautious and discreet, since she had not yet learned how to become invisible. The ghost man led the way from barracks to barracks, bedside to bedside. Jezra did not appear to be aware of his presence, even though he was telepathically instructing me in patient care. I wondered when she would be ready to communicate with Boris. How would I introduce them? Would she be able to see him and speak to him as I did?
As we visited the bedsides of people with different kinds of illnesses and injuries, I taught her everything that Boris had shown me. If I left out an important fact, Boris acted as my prompter, interjecting specific instructions for me to convey to her. We had no pharmacy of medicines to offer. We depended on the divine remedies of love, prayer, and healing, as well as elementary first aid.
First Aid
GOING FROM BEDSIDE TO bedside, Jezra and I observed the personality types of our patients. We recognized a correlation between personality and illness. Bold and outspoken prisoners were punished by whippings and beatings. They suffered from bruises, lacerations, and broken bones. The more docile and compliant prisoners cam
e down with fevers and infections. A sense of helplessness and powerlessness weakened the immune system in its ability to defend against disease. If the guards didn’t like you, if you annoyed or irritated them for any reason—watch out! Disobedient prisoners were cursed, ridiculed, and spit on. They were kicked and thrashed about like bad dogs.
After making our rounds of the camp, Jezra and I returned to barracks 12. We discussed the psychological needs of our patients and how their beliefs and attitudes affected their speed of recovery. She was a careful observer of human nature, paying close attention to the mental and emotional disposition of each person. Even when people could not speak, she was able to intuit their needs. She developed a compassionate bedside manner that brought comfort to many.
We studied the basics of first aid—how to stop the bleeding, how to clean a wound, how to treat for shock, set a bone, pull a tooth, lance an abscess. The ghost professor supervised our training sessions, prompting me when I faltered and telepathically instructing me so I could convey the information to Jezra. She practiced each technique and procedure until she was satisfied with her level of competence. I was overjoyed to have such an eager and ready assistant.
Two Hearts
IT WAS TIME TO teach my apprentice the basics of hands-on healing. I explained to Jezra, “We have two hearts: a physical heart that pumps our blood, and a spiritual heart that expresses divine love. Remember that a healer is an instrument of love.
“Let your spiritual heart open like a rose unfolding on a summer morning. Feel the love as it flows from your heart and streams down your arms to your palms. Allow the love to radiate out through your palms. Now hold your hands, palms facing down, a few centimeters above a wound, or place them directly on the body. Sense the flow of energy. Feel the warmth. It is easy to do. Just believe you can.”
As I practiced various hand positions on Jezra, another girl stepped forward and watched us with interest. “Why do you place your hands over Jezra’s head?” she asked. She had big brown eyes that looked wide open to the world. Her name was Aniela Aredarski. She was fourteen years old.
Aniela volunteered to play the role of a sick person so we could practice our healing techniques on her. I stood at the head of the bed and lay my hands on Aniela’s shoulders. Jezra stood facing me at the foot of the bed and placed her hands on the soles of her feet. Then we ran healing currents back and forth to balance the energy in her body.
Through the grace of God, many recovered from their illnesses. Wounds healed from the increased blood flow stimulated by the healing energy. Hands-on healing stabilized the vital functions of shock and trauma victims. It calmed the emotions and brought peace to the heart.
PART FIVE
Bond of the Heart
Klara
DUE TO THE UNCERTAINTIES of camp life, our training sessions were erratic. We had to seize each opportunity as it presented itself.
One afternoon, as we practiced hand positions on Aniela, a sprite of a girl limped forward and sat on the edge of the bed. She carefully placed her palms across Aniela’s forehead.
“Let me help too!” she pleaded. “I know that I can do something. I want to be of use, even if I am just a little girl.” I noticed that her right foot was twisted, and she dragged it forward with each step. “My name is Klara Lieberman. I’ve been at Auschwitz for six months.”
While Jezra and I applied first aid and practiced hands-on healing, Klara came along as “the comforter.” She held the patient’s hand and spoke words of hope and encouragement.
Our school of healing was taking shape. In addition to me as the leader of our team, it consisted of Boris, the ghost professor; Jezra as healing apprentice; Aniela as healing assistant; Klara as comforter; and Gretta, on call for emergencies. We orphan girls had important jobs to do. The motherless daughters of Auschwitz became sisters of mercy. We welcomed Klara into our team of healers. Like a dove, she brought peace and calm with the gentleness of her touch.
Celebrate the Rain
WATER WAS NEEDED FOR almost every aspect of healing. To obtain a supply of water, Jezra and I devised a plan. We called on Boris to retrieve the following items: a bucket or pot to collect the water, a glass jug with a cork to store the water, gauze cloth to filter the water, and a bag full of salt. Our plan was to wait until the sun had set on rainy nights. Under the cover of darkness I would sneak outside my barracks and place the empty bucket at the juncture of the rooflines. Rainwater ran down the channel between the slanted roofs and drained into our collection pail.
Day after day, we scanned the sky for signs of rain. The first opportunity to carry out our plan came six days later.
“A storm is coming! A storm is coming!” Three black crows shouted as they flew over my head. I knew that they were telling me to get out the water pail. It was going to rain.
As the night passed, the roar of the wind and pounding of raindrops on the roof awakened me. I was filled with anticipation and excitement. Before the rosy fingers of dawn graced the morning sky, I got out of bed and went outside to retrieve the rain pail. Carefully, I picked up the heavy bucket of storm water and carried it to a place where Jezra waited for me. Here we filled the water jug and all the containers we had found. I was grateful to have keen night vision. I was accustomed to seeing by the stars.
The four sisters of our healing team joined hands in gratitude to celebrate the rain. We called it “holy water” because it was a gift from heaven.
Raindrops for Teardrops
AS THE MOON WAXED and waned and the sun made circles in the sky, the girls of our sisterhood journeyed through puberty and grew into young women. As our bodies developed, we experienced new feelings and desires. As our bond of kinship deepened and our monthly cycles synchronized, we shared a common time to bleed. The blood was scant because of hunger and exhaustion, but our emotions were intense. As motherless daughters of the Holocaust we struggled to make sense of our sexuality and feminine nature. Every one of us had witnessed the rape or sexual assault of a friend or comrade. We knew our growing breasts advertised our incipient sexuality. As our bodies matured, we became increasingly vulnerable to the leers and lust of the iron men.
To honor each young woman for her dedication to healing, we decided to create a simple ceremony. It was our way of claiming our power in spite of confinement and subjugation. As we began our moon time, Jezra, Aniela, and Klara gathered at the side of my bed. I pulled out the cork of the glass jug and offered each girl a cup of clear water, a cup of rain rescued from last night’s storm. “Raindrops for teardrops,” we toasted. “To life,” we said in unison.
Instinctively my body knew to conserve water. I held back the flow of liquid tears. I cried with my heart, but my eyes remained dry. With the gift of rainwater, we could cry out our pain. Real tears were cleansing for body, mind, and spirit.
A Bond of the Heart
OUR CIRCLE OF HEALERS continued to meet. Working together as sisters we formed a bond of the heart. Although our mission was dangerous, our commitment was unshakable.
Gathering around my bed, we practiced hands-on healing and first aid. With Aniela volunteering in the role of a sick or wounded comrade, we moved our hands from one position to the next over her thin figure, from head to toe, both front and back. We learned how to serve as channels of healing energy.
Standing in the shadows a respectful distance away, Old Mother began to observe our training sessions. Silently she stood watching us, her arms folded across her chest, her tattered gray shawl wrapped tightly around her strong shoulders. Old Mother said little but spoke with her eyes. Her piercing look reminded me of my dear mother, Nadia. I recalled the early days of my childhood, waking up before dawn, watching her sit looking out the window, absorbed in communion with the starry beacons of the night.
We welcomed Old Mother into our sisterhood and shared with her our secrets, hopes, and fears. She became an adopted grandmother to the orphaned girls. We looked up to her as an elder of wisdom and power.
The Prince and the Wise Man
AFTER A LONG PRACTICE session, we sat down to rest. “Come hither, divine children,” Old Mother beckoned, inviting us to join her. “Aspiring healers and budding nurses, come and listen to a noble story.” We followed her, walking out of the gray barracks into the dusty yard. In the shape of the crescent moon, the sisters formed a semicircle in front of our female mentor. Aniela came first and stood far to the left. Then came Jezra, then Gretta and myself. Finally came Klara, who stood last on the right. Old Mother’s story began like this:
Long, long ago, in a far-off land across the deep blue sea, lived old King Sat and his son Satya. The young prince was raised in an ambience of splendor and ease. Everything he wished for was handed to him without delay. He had the finest of clothes, fruits and spices, the jewels of the kingdom, personal tutors, and devoted servants. The king doted on his only son and protected him from the vicissitudes of life. The boy grew up within the confines of the palace walls, sheltered from struggle and want.
One day a band of troubadours and puppeteers arrived to entertain the royal family and members of the court. They had traveled many moons by horse and cart from a distant land. In yonder land, the people spoke in lilting melodies that enchanted the listeners. The colorful flamboyance of the troubadours fascinated the young prince. He was impressed by their skill and cleverness. The exotic perfumes and incense aroused in the boy his primal instincts.
That night, the young prince lay awake in his chamber, pondering the strange ways of the foreign visitors. A thirst for truth, a hunger to experience life, a desire for adventure—all had been awakened in him. Secretly, he formulated a plan of escape.