The Letters That Survived
A granddaughter writes to the man who carried her grandmother out of the ghetto.
A work of historical imagination
Five letters between Michelle Rose and Josef Matusiewicz, the man who carried her grandmother, Anita Ekstein, out of the Skole ghetto in a potato sack. One letter is released each day, November 2 to 6, at 3:00 p.m. Eastern.
The letters are imagined. The events at their heart are real.
The letters
Michelle writes on cream. Josef answers on navy.
Read the foreword
There are stories we inherit because someone tells them to us. And there are stories we inherit because they become part of who we are.
As the granddaughter of four Holocaust survivors, I grew up knowing that the Holocaust was not simply something that happened in history books. It was part of my family. It lived in the stories my grandparents carried, in the people who were missing from those stories, and in the lives that existed because some people chose to help when they could have chosen not to.
I am also a Jewish mother and a Holocaust educator in Toronto. I spend my days teaching young people about a history that is both deeply personal and increasingly important to understand.
But the history I teach is not distant from me. It is part of my family, part of my identity, and part of the reason I believe so deeply in the responsibility to remember.
One of the people at the centre of that responsibility is my grandmother, Anita Ekstein.
My grandmother, Anita Ekstein, was born in Lwów, Poland, in 1934. She was a child when Nazi persecution transformed her world. Her family was forced into a ghetto, her mother was taken away and murdered, and her father was left desperately trying to find a way to keep his only daughter alive. Her father found help in a Polish Catholic man named Josef Matusiewicz.
One day, he entered the Skole ghetto, put Anita into a potato sack, and carried her out. He then helped arrange for her to be hidden with a Catholic family. His decision placed him and his family at extraordinary risk.
But he did it.
The details of what happened next are part of my grandmother’s story. They come from her own recollections and from the knowledge she carried with her throughout her life. But they also come from another source: Josef himself. We have documents and letters that Josef wrote to Anita, beginning around the time of her rescue and continuing through the years that followed, until his death. His own words provide another window into the story and into the relationship that continued between them long after the war.
Those letters also help us follow what came next. After the war, orphaned and carrying the complicated legacy of a childhood spent hidden under a false identity, Anita eventually came to Canada in 1948 and settled in Toronto. She became a Holocaust educator, founded a group for child survivors and hidden children, participated in the March of the Living eighteen times, and spoke to thousands of students.
The Matusiewicz family was later recognized by Yad Vashem as Righteous Among the Nations, an honour given to non-Jews who risked themselves to help save Jews during the Holocaust.
Josef could not have known what that decision would become. He could not have known that the little girl he carried out of the ghetto would survive the war.
He could not have known that she would eventually come to Canada, marry, raise a family, and devote much of her life to teaching others about what had happened to her.
He could not have known that she would eventually become a grandmother. He could not have known me.
And yet, for all that is known about this story, there is still so much that cannot be known.
We cannot know all the answers. That is where this book begins. The Letters That Survived is an imagined correspondence between Josef Matusiewicz and me.
The correspondence itself did not take place. Josef’s words in these pages are imagined, shaped by the documented history of Anita’s survival, the surviving documents and correspondence between Anita and Josef, and the questions that history leaves behind.
The events at the heart of the correspondence are real. The consequences of one decision did ripple across generations.
I have inherited that story. I have inherited the responsibility of remembering it. This is not a reconstruction of a conversation that happened. It is a conversation that could never happen now.
It is an attempt to place two people, separated by history and by generations, in the same room for a moment and ask what might pass between them.
The answers that follow are imagined. The story that made them necessary is not.
Michelle Rose
Toronto, Canada
2026
Author’s note
These letters are a work of historical imagination inspired by the documented story of Anita Ekstein and Josef Matusiewicz. The correspondence did not take place, and the thoughts and words attributed to Josef are imagined, not recovered testimony.
Anita was born in Lwów, Poland, in 1934. During the Nazi occupation, she and her family were forced into a ghetto. Her father sought help from Josef Matusiewicz, a Polish Catholic man whose work gave him access to the ghetto. Josef carried Anita out in a bag and helped arrange for her to be hidden by a Catholic family. His actions placed him and his family at risk. Anita survived, eventually immigrated to Canada, and became a Holocaust educator. Her memoir, Always Remember Who You Are, documents her experiences.
The historical context of the letters draws on documented accounts of ghettos, forced relocations, roundups, deportations, and the persecution of Jewish families under Nazi occupation.
Michelle’s experiences as a Jewish mother and Holocaust educator in Toronto are presented in her own voice. The contemporary experiences described are not equated with the Holocaust or the systematic genocide carried out by Nazi Germany and its collaborators. Rather, the correspondence explores how historical memory can inform our understanding of antisemitism, allyship, Jewish identity, and the responsibilities people have when others are threatened.
The relationship between Michelle and Marta, Josef’s great-granddaughter, is a living connection between the families. It does not undo the past or repay a debt. It represents one part of what happened afterward.