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Nothing could stop her in her pursuits. Neither the vile wind that beat so cruelly against her, nor the pangs of sorrow that stabbed at her heart. She knew she must continue, not for her sake, but for the sake of the small child that lay in her arms, oblivious to the panic that surrounded her.

Behind them a blazing inferno raised high into the sky and hung over the village like an immense shroud, suffocating all that lay beneath. Cries could be heard amid the roars of the flames in the wind, shrinking in volume as the minutes past and the flames intensified.
Why had it come to this? Everyone was so sure that the Nazis would spare them, consider their small and isolated village as insignificant and leave the holy villagers to their old-fashioned selves. The strike was sudden; they killed, they torched and they fled, trapping the villagers in a deadly vortex.

Yet she had managed to escape and flee with the child through the trap door that led onto the fields.
She thought about what Yitzchak had said to her ' 'run', he cried to her, 'there are partisans in the woods. Take the child.' And it was his cries that caused her tears to flow unremittingly, but it was his selflessness that gave her the strength of mind to carry on.
How brave Yitzchak had been. Would he manage to escape as well...? No. She could not allow these thoughts to occupy her now, she must continue south towards the woods, she must find the partisans, and within minutes she was swallowed by the greenery and disappeared from view.