“My dad brought me to a refugee shelter to drop off the clothes I collected for them. Because my mum is from Syria and my dad is from Iraq I could talk to the children in the shelter. In the beginning they didn’t trust me. When I asked them why they said it’s because they have been lied to too many times. I’m going to the shelter more often to play with the children and I told my friends in school about the kids. My classmates were so touched by my stories that they helped me set up a fundraiser. When I grow up and have a real job I want to give half of my salary to refugees or people who need it because the world is not just mine. It’s from all of us.”

A few months ago I interviewed Toby together with his sister Kyra and Father Joaquin about their voluntary work. Almost every night they are waiting at the Central Station to welcome refugees, handing out food and helping them to a shelter. After I posted their story here on Humans of Amsterdam I received an email from someone of the “Amsterdammertje van het Jaar” comitee asking me if I could connect them with Toby. “Amsterdammertje van het Jaar” is a prestigious award for children in Amsterdam who contribute to the city. Last night Toby won the award. I could not be more proud of him and all the other volunteers in Amsterdam who contribute day after day!

Toby doesn’t know I’m posting this so let’s surprise him by congratulating him!

“Amsterdammertje van het jaar” translated to English would be something like “Little Amsterdammer of the year”. If you have a better translation feel free to share.

‘He was a Catholic boy and I was Jewish girl. My parents didn’t mind the fact that my boyfriend was a Catholic. His name was Henk and after 1,5 year of dating, we decided to get married. We were only seventeen. It was just before my father died. I’m so glad they did meet each other and that my father could be present at my wedding.“

“During our 15 months stay in the concentration camp we were never deported to one of the death camps. Because my father managed to work as a truck driver in the camp we survived.
You know, I never looked it up if there were still transports to the deathcamps during that period of time. I could probably do some research on the Internet but to be honest.. I don’t want to know. My knowledge of that fact will not change the past. Sometimes people ask me how I manage to stay so optimistic. All I can tell you is that staying optimistic has been my way to survive..”

“One day a young man and his brother in law came in to buy some shoes at the shoe store I worked. He was very charming and funny. He kept on trying different pairs of shoes. After two hours of shoe-trying my boss finally asked him if he was actually planning on buying a pair. He bought two pairs and asked me out. I was only fourteen years old but I took my job very seriously and I told him that I wasn’t dating any customers. A few months later while finishing my dancing class, a boy approached me and asked whether I wanted to smoke a cigarette with him. I agreed and once we were outside he asked: ‘don’t you recognize me?’ He turned out to be the boy who had bought the shoes. He said: since you are not working now, can I ask you to go to the movies with me? A week later we went to see that movie with Scarlet O’hara, ‘Gone with the wind’.”

“At home we never mentioned the war. It was too painful. My relationship with my mother was very bad. In 1942 she had a miscarriage. It was a girl and she had hoped that her next child would be a boy. I probably reminded her too much of it and every time we got into a fight, she would say: ‘I wish you were a boy’. Whenever she would say that me heart was bleeding. Luckily I was very close with my father. He was an honest man. He always made sure the boys took on as many domestic tasks as the girls, which was quite rare for Jewish families in those times.
Then this terrible day came were we found out he had cancer. They tried to save him but the cancer had already spread and on the 29th of September 1961 he passed away. He had just turned 45. The pain I felt is indescribable. Until this day, thinking about his passing hurts.”