Grad Lesno Brdo

The Hotel, the Reunion, and the Old Castle

For over two weeks, the group sat with Yoshko in a hotel in Maribor. They lived in a state of fragility, supported by the local Jewish community. Yoshko noted that while they were fed sweets and treats they hadn’t seen in years, a “hidden danger” lay in the internal demoralization of living on pity.

Eventually, the group was granted a brief, joyous reprieve: two days in Zagreb to see their siblings. The community courtyard exploded with life as many of them reunited with their siblings (mostly brothers). But the happiness was short-lived. The group was soon moved to their permanent home—the old manor at Lesno Brdo.

The sight of the dilapidated “castle” was a shock. The group broke out in a surge of tears, literally falling to the ground as they realized they were now “camp dwellers.” That first evening, a refugee pianist played Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata,” providing a calming soundtrack as they began to arrange themselves in their new, meager quarters.

The Silence of Lesno Brdo

In the secluded manor, the silence of the Slovenian countryside often felt heavy. The group struggled to settle into the collective rhythm, with many sitting in corners for hours, weeping for the families they had left behind in the basements of Berlin.

A Harvest in the Shadows

Yet, even in this sadness, nature offered a small kindness. Behind the manor, the group found peace in the wild forests, picking wild blackberries. They would wander among the thorny brambles together, feeling the sun on their necks and seeing her fingers stained a deep purple. For those few moments, the shared task of the harvest made the war feel a world away. Sonja recalled later in life the joy she had wondering in the forest and picking blackberries in nature.

Show the world a chearful smile…

During Chanukkah 1941, the bond of the group was solidified through small acts of love. It was then that Lilli Lewin gave Sonja the bound diary. Inside, Lilli wrote:

“I was thinking about what I could give you as a gift—and then a wonderful idea came to me: a diary for you, when you have no one to talk to. Write into it all your thoughts, all your hopes for the future. I hope that it will replace every person for you. But dear Sonja, please remember the following saying, and hold on to it. It will help you.

Wishing you all the best, Your Lilli Lewin

“Show the world a cheerful smile, For crying eyes aren’t worth its while. And even when your heart does break, smile and smile – for your own sake.”Sonja learned to wear these “cheerful smiles” for the others, creating a facade of strength while her true grief was shared only in the private pages of her diary—the one “person” she felt she could truly talk to. This is where Sonja’s Diary begins.