This International Women’s Day, I want to recognize an extraordinary woman I had the privilege of meeting recently: Esther Fairbloom. I accompanied her to several schools and universities where she courageously shared her difficult life story with students. Watching young people listen in complete silence as she spoke was a powerful reminder of why her voice matters so deeply.

Esther was born around 1941 in the ghetto of Tarnopol, Poland. When the Germans began deporting Jews, her parents understood the grave danger their daughters faced. In an act of unimaginable courage, they entrusted two-month-old Esther to the Mother Superior of a Catholic orphanage in Zbarz, while her sister was hidden with a farming family. It was their only hope of survival.

Esther was baptized and raised in a convent. The nuns became her family, shielding her during Nazi searches for hidden Jewish children. Esther’s striking red hair made her a target as there were few redheads in Poland who weren't Jewish, and this alone put her at risk. With little food available, she suffered severe malnutrition. Not long after placing their daughters in hiding, Esther’s parents were murdered when the Germans seized their slaughterhouse.

After the war, Esther was adopted by her aunt and uncle. The transition was painful; she had grown deeply attached to the nuns who had cared for her. The family spent five years in a displaced persons camp in Germany before eventually immigrating to Canada. Too young to remember her birth name or even her birthdate, Esther struggled with a profound identity crisis. Raised Catholic, she wrestled with what it meant to rediscover her Jewish identity.

Years later, she learned — almost by chance — that she had a sister living in Israel. Her uncle had withheld this information, believing it would spare her further pain. Today, Esther travels to see her sister whenever possible. Their bond, rooted in a shared sense of loss and survival, transcends language.

Starting over in Canada was not easy. Despite speaking six languages, she was placed in a one-room school near Ottawa.  In high school, she met the love of her life, David. Together they built a family of three children, grandchildren, and a great-grandchild — living proof of resilience in the face of hatred.

Once her children were grown, Esther began working in finance, where she became a trusted support for fellow Holocaust survivors. Many had no family and were wary of institutions. Her multilingual abilities — some learned from the nuns who saved her — allowed her to build bridges of trust and compassion.

For many years, Esther hesitated to speak publicly about her past. Today, she embraces her role as a witness. Her testimony moves audiences profoundly — at one school, 900 young people sat in complete silence as she spoke. She worries about a future when no survivors remain to tell their stories, and she urges younger generations to confront antisemitism and hatred wherever it appears.

Though she attends synagogue weekly, Esther still wrestles with questions of faith. Over time, however, her faith has evolved into a deep commitment to family, remembrance and helping others.

This International Women’s Day, we honour Esther Fairbloom and all women who have endured unimaginable adversity. Their lives remind us of the strength of the human spirit — and of our responsibility to stand firmly against hatred, prejudice and injustice in every generation.

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