Polish-born Holocaust survivor Sally Frishberg has much to be angry about. She was robbed of her childhood, her home, some relatives, and an early education. But this is a woman who believes that ?when there is a fork in the road, we must go in the direction of goodness?? a route she not only travels herself but also is devoted to encouraging others to follow.

A retired educator with more than 30 years of experience, Mrs. Frishberg has never squandered an opportunity to impress upon the young in particular that to them fall the opportunities and responsibilities to shape a better world through truth, understanding and respect.

?Had I not been a school teacher I would have taken a different path, but I saw youngsters whom I wanted to help, but how can you be helpful if you deny the truth?? she says. ?I tell them, ?You must find the truth. You will discover there are good people and bad people. We have to learn to respect others. If their choices are different, it is because they experience them in a different way. If we are respected we are all right. Being respected is a very important thing?.?

Certainly, Mrs. Frishberg knows whereof she speaks, for like all Jews who were so mercilessly persecuted by the Nazis during the Second World War, she too suffered the indignities, hardships and terror inflicted by the German forces occupying her country. Yet today, it is the memory of one man ? a Polish Catholic ? whom she credits with saving her physically and psychologically, and whose example still gives her the energy and strength to pursue her vision of world peace and unity.

In September, 1939 Sally Engelberg was just five years old when German soldiers arrived in her village, and her family was forced to accommodate two of them. Today, they are recalled as ?really fine young men?, one of whom, Herr Arnold, even became her father?s friend. The two had long discussions during which the German educated his host on the dangers facing the world, and warned him that his family needed to be extremely cautious and careful, otherwise things would be very difficult for them.

The advice was well taken when the Holocaust began in 1942 and the Jews of the village were ordered to assemble at the railway station for ?resettlement?. Instead, the Engelbergs fled their home in the dark of night and took refuge among the farms of another village, Mokszanka. Only Sally?s grandfather obeyed orders, and was never heard from again.

For three months, the family of four made their home hiding under piles of harvested crops, remaining silent and motionless during the day, and creeping out at night to steal fruit, vegetables and bread from the fields and farmers. Five relatives, including three children, lived in an adjoining pile. It was a desperately uncomfortable existence, and stifling Sally?s little sister?s cries was always difficult.

Meanwhile, rumours about a Jewish family in the fields were circulating in the village, and Stanislaw Grocholski, a Polish Catholic, resolved to find and help his fellow countrymen.

?He found us, but when we realised his idea of help was to bring us a little food or information, that wouldn?t do, and my mother began to plead with him to give us shelter,? Mrs. Frishberg says. ?At first he hesitated because his wife, Maria, would not cooperate, fearing for the lives of her family if they were caught, and his first loyalty was to them.?

Her mother, however, continued to plead until eventually Mr. Grocholski gave in and hid not only the Engelbergs in his attic, but also their relatives from the field, and four of Mrs. Engelberg?s brothers whom he discovered hiding in a forest.

?In all, that wonderful Christian man undertook to look after 15 Jews, and saved the lives of 12 of them. My aunt and her son died in the attic, as did my younger sister later,? Mrs. Frishberg says.

?Today, those 12 number approximately 150. I look at my children and say, ?The things you can do are unbelievable. Just do it and you will have a better world.? If Hitler could bring evil upon us, why can?t children bring good things? In a world that was helpless and did nothing for whatever reasons, one man did something entirely different. He dedicated himself to helping us and because of him, people lived.?

Until 1944, when Mokszanka was liberated by the Russian army, the hidden Jews lived in what was a dark crawl space with ceilings so low they could not stand up. They ranged themselves around the walls, with buckets for waste in the centre. Every night, Mr. Grocholski climbed a ladder, opened the door, passed in a pot of boiled beans and potatoes, and very rarely some bread, and cleaned out the buckets.

?Our hope was that when the Americans entered the war in 1941 it would greatly speed up the process. We thought we?d be free in weeks or months, but it took two years, and during all that time Mr. Grocholski always did his job,? Mrs. Frishberg says.

Liberation, however, was not the sweet dream the Engelbergs had envisioned when they re-emerged into the world.

?At first we couldn?t stand up, couldn?t stand sunlight, couldn?t digest our food, and couldn?t make a sound because we hadn?t used our voices. We were seriously incapacitated people physically and psychologically, but the wonder of life is how quickly you regain the power to walk, talk and digest, and enjoy the good life again,? Mrs. Frishberg says.

Worse was to come. The much-anticipated return to their family home was short-lived.

?We were chased out by fellow Polish citizens who didn?t give up their hatred. They came from another area one night, entered our home and said, ?You are Jews. We don?t want you here. Go back to Palestine where you belong. If you stay here we will come back and shoot you?. To prove they could, they fired a shot. The war was won by the Allies but the haters continued to hate.?

Three days later, the Engelbergs became part of a vast movement of Displaced Persons (DPs) roaming bewildered around Europe without homes, jobs, goals or understanding. Yet the family knew exactly where it wanted to be: America.

?We took two years to reach Munich, Germany because our route was indirect,? Mrs. Engelberg says. ?Our goal was always Munich because it was under American occupation. Once the Americans established contact with my father?s brothers in America we were on our way. We sailed from Bremerhaven in Germany. We were afraid, excited and intimidated. We didn?t know what to expect. We knew we couldn?t communicate in English, and it was a very emotional, strained trip, but we got to America on November 19, 1947.?

Relatives in their new-found land quickly told them to put the past behind them and get on with their futures. Sally Engelberg took the advice to heart, and from that moment forward regarded her life as the turning of a fresh page.

For the first time she entered a classroom at the age of 13. Despite having no previous education, she was placed in the eighth grade to better fit in with her fellow students, and went on to justify her principal?s faith that she would work hard and catch up. Helping in the process was Ken Frishberg, a 16-year-old maths whiz at the same school who reluctantly agreed to tutor Sally at the request of a mutual friend. Next year, the couple will celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary.

?It wasn?t love at first sight, that?s for Disney,? Mr. Frishberg jokes. ?I was smart enough to chase her until she caught me.?

Today, Mrs. Frishberg holds two Master?s degrees, and looks back on a highly successful career as a high school teacher who taught literature and the history of the Holocaust ? the latter a programme she designed in conjunction with fellow faculty members.

?We were a Catholic, a Lutheran and a Jew, and we thought, ?This is how it should be, all working together?,? she says. ?Former students tell me, ?Mrs. Frishberg, you changed my life?, and I am very gratified.?

To this day, November 10 remains a significant date in her life. Something she always marks with speaking engagements, and always shared with her students.

?I get up in the morning and say, ?This is another birthday for freedom?, and I rejoice in that. Then I remember it is also the anniversary of Kristallnacht (the first assault upon the Jewish community by the German government in 1938), which was really Hitler?s first warning to the world ? ?if I can get away with this I can do more?.

It was a mindless assault, and the world was silent. For me, Kristallnacht is a reminder of the price you pay if you do nothing and no-one notices. That is why, wherever I speak, I tell people not to ignore injustice, otherwise the evil that is beginning will continue to grow. We have to address issues much earlier than we do.?

In her classroom Mrs. Frishberg used to seek her students? advice on November 10.

?Today is a special birthday, but I also remember Kristallnacht. Should I dance for joy or cry in pain??

?Every one of those kids said, ?Do both?, which is actually what life is about,? she says.

As successful and well-adjusted as the busy wife, mother and grandmother is however, over the years Mrs. Frishberg has had to confront and deal with a number of personal issues and discoveries, some of which emerged only after accidental slips of the tongue.

One example was ?The family secret?, which was closely guarded for decades in Poland and America, and never spoken of. It emerged that before the war Sally?s mother had given birth to twins, one of whom died shortly after birth, and the other was her sister who fell ill while the family was holed up in the attic. Because there was no hope of medical treatment there, she had been sorrowfully and anonymously left at the nearby church, where she was ultimately adopted by a childless couple, but died. It was only during a return visit to Poland in 1987 that her grave was found ? in the church grounds of the village where Sally was born.

?Only in the last couple of years have I been able to acknowledge the fact that there were five sisters and only three survived,? Mrs. Frishberg says. ?My parents believed it was better for us not to know, but when you hide the facts you darken their memory. We did our family a disservice.?

Through her husband?s encouragement, she is now able to speak more openly about the experiences of those early, traumatic years, and rejoices in another freedom.

?When you allow yourself to face issues you learn more, and that for me has been a great gift. There is a confinement you feel when you don?t talk to people. There is no air and it chokes you. When the air comes in you begin to see and remember things; it is really liberating not to protect myself.?

An excellent communicator, although she is happy to share her story with the outside world, her story as a Holocaust survivor is yet to be shared in depth with her husband and their two adult children, Leslie and Jack.

?In my family we don?t talk about this because we learned not to. It is not an everyday conversation, but if something comes up we will discuss it,? Mrs. Frishberg says. ?My son and daughter know because they?re not stupid. My two sisters choose not to press the issue.?

There is, however, the prize-winning video made by her niece Debbie Goodstein entitled ?Voices in the Attic?, which was made during the Frishberg?s extended family visit to Poland in 1987. At this time they visited the widowed Maria Grocholski, the attic where her husband had hidden them for so long, the graveyard of the little twin, and all of the other sites so important to Sally?s memories. She looked again through the crack in the attic wall where she had seen a sliver of the outside world, and understood at last Mrs. Grochoski?s reluctance to give shelter.

Taking stock of today?s troubled world, and the realisation that lessons of two world wars and the Holocaust still have not been learned about fighting prejudice and evil, the grandmother of four says sadly: ?Justice is still far away from us, and I don?t know what to do about it, other than to say to young people: ?You must equip yourselves to make your world better. If you don?t it will be destroyed by arms.? Young people have to embrace that responsibility and do something about it.?

Certainly, this dynamic and attractive Holocaust survivor will not give up her own efforts to campaign for a better world.

?Stanislaw Grocholski has strengthened me. I am convinced that because of what he did I shouldn?t be frightened to tackle anything. I never tire, and am full of energy because he was. He is the man I model my life on,? she says.

Mrs. Frishberg is in Bermuda fulfilling speaking engagements in schools in relation to the ?Anne Frank ? A History for Today? exhibition sponsored by the Jewish Community of Bermuda at City Hall. The exhibition opened last night.