Not long after the October 7 Hamas attacks in Israel, a stranger sent me a message on Instagram. I had never spoken to this person before.

“You dirty people. You are bombing hospitals. I hope Adolf comes back to life, because he’s the only one who can stop demons like you.” The message blamed Israel, but it was clear the anger was directed at Jews.

I blocked the sender immediately.

Later that day I showed it to my non-Jewish friend, my dance fitness teacher, someone I’ve grown close to over the years. When she read it, her eyes filled with tears.

“You are such a nice person,” she said. “How could someone write something so hateful?”

I was moved by my friend’s compassion. I could feel how much she cared about me, and I was grateful.

She knew me, and she had my back.

Watching my friend react that way made me think about my grandmother and the neighbors she wished had her back.

Hatred from strangers is frightening.Hatred from someone who knows you is something else.Betrayal.

My grandmother, Rose Silberberg, survived the Holocaust. But survival meant more than enduring ghettos and camps. It also meant living through the moment when neighbors stopped seeing Jews as part of their community.

Rose grew up in Wieluń, Poland. Hatred of Jews existed there long before the Nazis arrived. She remembered violence around Passover. Jews were accused of killing Christian children, and non-Jews used these accusations as an excuse to beat and attack them. Attacks came in waves, and her family learned to live with them.

When she was eighteen, her father died. With few options, Rose moved with some of her family from........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)