Etty Hillesum is writing about her experience of being in Westerbork, which was a camp established for those on their way to eventually die in a concentration camp.
Those in camps were expected in some way to get supplies from outside. She requests her friend, “if you don’t think it too immodest: a pillow or some old cushion; the straw gets a little hard in the end. But you are not allowed to send parcels weighing more than two kilos from the provinces, and a pillow probably weighs more than that. So if you happen to be in Amsterdam and should call at Pa Han’s (please don’t abandon him, and do show him this letter), you might perhaps send it from some post office there. Otherwise, my only wish is that you are all well and in good spirits, and send me a few kind words from time to time,” (378)
She tried her best to prevent her parents from being sent off to a concentration, but it was only temporary. She got them to not go on transportation, but they would go nonetheless a week later (Gigliotti and Lang, 381).
She writes, “Ten thousand have passed through this place, the clothed and the naked, the old and the young, the sick and the healthy – and I am left to live and work and stay cheerful. It will be my parents’ turn to leave soon, if by some miracle not this week, then certainly one of the next. And I must learn to accept this as well. Mischa insists on going along with them, and it seems to me that he probably should; if he has to watch our parents leave this place, it will totally unhinge him. I shan’t go, I just can’t. It is easier to pray for someone from a distance than to see him suffer by your side. It is not fear of Poland that keeps me from going along with my parents, but fear of seeing them suffer. And that, too, is cowardice,” (384). Hillesum notes that the diversity of suffering she has witnessed passes through her camp and the large numbers. It is interesting that she would rather not go along with her parents, unlike Mischa.