My best friend was the Jewish girl Trudi. She and her aunt were the only survivors in a family of 34. Trudi was rescued by a miracle. She and her parents had been taken by the Germans in their home in Amsterdam and now stood in line waiting to be transported to a concentration camp. The mother was carrying the one-year old brother and the father had the three year old Trudi on his arm. An Arian brother-in-law to her mother, incidentally passed on his bicycle and saw his family in the queue. While driving he grabbed Trudi from her father’s arm and drove away with her on the crossbar. It went so fast that none of the German soldiers saw it. Trudi was hidden by different Dutch families and was in 1947 found by the only surviving member of her family, her mother’s sister. Later on the sister married a Jewish musician who had performed at Wivex in Copenhagen before the war, but had his delicate violin fingers destroyed by slave labour for the Germans in the Belgium coal mines. Trudi was adopted by the couple and her new father earned his livelihood as an agent for a Dutch company in Antwerp. The family was enlarged with a small boy whom Trudi considered as her brother. The family did well but their souls were deeply scarred by the horror of what they had experienced during the war.