Summary Of Irene Gut Opdyke's In My Hands

The introduction to Irene Gut Opdyke’s experiences before and during World War II left me speechless. It seems impossible to me that she experienced so much pain and suffering in a few short years. The observations, emotions, and reactions to Irene’s marvelous writing in part one of In My Hands have already begun to change how I view kindness and sacrifice. In My Hands begins with Irene’s harrowing tale of her curiosity almost leading to her drowning in the river near her house. Her incredibly protective dog, Myszka, managed to keep her from going over the edge and saved her life, however. People were certain “Irenka” was meant to survive and achieve great accomplishments in life, and their foreshadowings were not incorrect. Irene and

Working as a student nurse in Radom, Poland, she experienced the horrific consequences associated with destruction, death, and loss of national identity. When Radom was bombed, she kept herself together, tended to the wounded, and volunteered to travel with the Polish army, all while having no idea if her family members at home were even alive. The world crumbled around her, she became an exile in her own country after Poland became occupied, and she was brutally raped, but she continued to fight. I am fully aware most millennials in the United States, including myself, would not have the capacity to endure this amount of pain and suffering without breaking down. Irene, nonetheless, overcame her fears to survive and thrive, and never lost sight of her true goal; to return home to her family. Despite my sheer amazement at how quickly life can turn sour, Irene’s perseverance gives me hope that overcoming difficulties is never impossible. I was washed over with relief when Irene returned to her family. It was reasonable that she had no high hopes of ever seeing her parents again, but fate brought them to her aunt’s house in Radom, and Irene’s intelligence and determination led her from Soviet interrogators to where she deserved to be. Simply reading of Irene’s imprisonment and interrogations gave me anxiety, but I knew she was not a