During her early years, my grandmother worked at a doctor’s office to supplement her father’s income. Shuffling papers and making appointments, she was a dedicated employee. The office was in Berlin, Germany where she lived with her family. It was 1942, and, after three years of working together, my grandmother had made a special friendship with the doctor. Instead of Anna, he called her Princess and viewed her as a daughter.

His name was Dr. Nagun, and he had moved to Germany from Egypt. He told Anna stories of the great sphinxes and pyramids and in turn, Anna would tell him stories of her religion, Judaism, which was very important to her. She did not know it, but this man who was her close friend would become her hero.

In 1943, Hitler started to impose strict rules on the Jews in Germany. Anna’s father had a decent job as a fruit importer and was not about to flee Germany. The restrictions, though, got to the point where the Nazis went to every house and forced the Jews into concentration camps.

When Dr. Nagun heard this news, he decided to hide my grandmother and her family in the attic of his office. Until the end of the war in 1945, he fed and cared for them. This was an enormous sacrifice because if they were found, he would have been executed. He was the reason they lived ... and he is the reason I am alive.

This man was a fearless hero, and I am grateful that he bravely risked his life for the well being of others.