“For more than fifty years after the war, Syvia, like many Holocaust survivors, did not talk about her experiences. But as she grew older, it was time. Time to remember. Time to share. Memories were coming back to her in dreams. Details popped into her head during the day.”

The childlike quality of Syvia’s recollections is alluded to in the fact that her memories were long repressed. For this reason, Syvia’s memories are not reframed by adult perspective or language; instead, they are delivered as if from the present-tense voice of Syvia as the events in the Lodz Ghetto unfold. For this reason, the novel in verse feels poignant and tragic, as the reader is positioned to feel that no child should have to witness or experience mass murder, persecution, or starvation.

“Clink, clink, Mother’s teacup trembles on its saucer. ‘Must we go, Isaac?’ she says to my father, who has come home from work unexpectedly, interrupting the weekly tea.”

Syvia observes her mother’s trembling teacup, illustrating her anxiety. A disruption to the usual schedule is implied in Isaac’s presence; Syvia is made aware that there is stress and worry among the adults in her life, which makes her feel anxious in turn.

“All the Jews? That must be more than one hundred! (One hundred is the largest number I know.) Papa corrects me. “Over one hundred thousand people, maybe twice that.”

The fact that 100 is the largest number that Syvia knows reminds readers of Syvia’s youth. Papa’s correction—that there may be as many as 200,000 people placed in the ghetto—foreshadows the immense crowding and subsequent rationing and scarcity that the family will experience in the coming years.