I was born and grew up in an Orthodox home in the USSR, in the Carpathian Mountains (before this place was Hungary). We lived a double life. At home one thing, and in the school something different.

My parents were telling different stories about life before the war and during the war, specifically about the concentration camp. My mother was in two concentration camps. The first one was Auschwitz and the second one was Bergen Belsen.

The barrack was lit every Friday night with these candlesThey arrived in Auschwitz on the second day of Shavuot, and from that day they were counting the days to Shabbat. Every Friday she made two little candles from the margarine she saved and did not eat, and took some threads from the bottom of her dress and lit them. My mother encouraged all the other women in the barrack to do the same, and they all did it, so the barrack was lit every Friday night with these candles. She never lost her faith, and even after the war she was a very religious lady. She claimed that she survived only due to her Shabbat candles.

When in 1972 my parents made aliyah, moved to Israel, they went from house to house to teach the Russian Jews how to pray and how to light Shabbat candles. This was very important to my parents. I was taught from childhood how important Shabbat candles are.