Holocaust Survivor

November 21, 2007
Days are happy; nights are nothing more than average. People sleep in safe beds in joyful homes. Countries lay side by side for centuries, and conflict rarely results to such tragedy. A thirteen-year-old girl goes to school, it happens everyday around the world. There, she has friends, they talk, they go to class, they learn. A good quality society that is thankful for education. Thankful, to go home and get food on the table and family to talk with and laugh. All families have fights. Teenagers often argue with their parents. It’s part of growing up. Lives like this, should never be interrupted. News is spread throughout the world, but that’s nothing new, newspaper, television; unbelievable.

One night there is a knock on the door. People rarely come to visit, except maybe friends. The family startles and jumps to welcome the guests. Friendly welcomes were ignored. Large men let themselves in as if it was their authority alone. They march through halls, steal and curse. For once in a lifetime, that girl is silent, wide-eyed with fear. It was only the beginning of the end.

Their happy home, taken by men who think their just better. A man’s dedication and hard work to the craftsmanship of his family’s beautiful home, is destroyed before his eyes. It’s a terrible sight, to see your father cry.

They could never steal their pride. Locked in old buildings, sparse food and water, no contact with the outside world, but people were stuck together. Bringing them closer to their “own kind”. Positives drift away as reality flows over. From age three, watching someone you love grow up. Living, breathing, growing together. Sisters forever, but with no legal papers, love eventually means nothing at all. The clock turns ahead and someone’s one and only friend turn there back. “Don’t talk to me again you dirty Jew!” Forever in life, “why?” is the only thing to echo.

“Transport and Selection” “Transport and Selection” “Transport and Selection” Just say the words. Possibly it doesn’t hurt to you as it did to them. A fourteen-year-old girl, who can now not understand the concept of anything. Conditions only began to get bad when; bathrooms could no longer be used. Not that the men would ever clean them of course. A couple weeks of standing there and the family became hot and sweaty. The halting of the train was an unrecognizable feeling. The live among them conversed until the doors opened into the doorway of hell.

Yanked and pulled unmercifully to only God knows where. Fear was now only a part of them. Smells, sounds everything filled the smoky air. The family was healthy enough to live they decided. So just like the rest were simply stripped, shaven, beaten. Food they thought was amazing, but only yet another trick. Illness carried through the air of the next transport of those who made the harsh inspection. Talk about insanity.

Millions are left behind. Remember that there is nothing anyone can do. In thirty minutes, a child will be ash. It is nothing to some. Put the face of a loved one to that then think. Now a happy fifteen-year-old girl is just thankful to be alive.

Nights seem the scariest. To hear next door, someone die in a single fit of rage. Lie there and hope for a toilet, for a bed, for love. Love experienced now is a person giving a single sheet of paper. That is a gift. Long to be thankful for life again.

Nineteen, she feels her life was taken away, as was a kidney and all pride, thanks to the goal of another human being. Life is far from simple. She says to us, “I can forgive, but why can’t we learn?” Why can’t we learn to not let others hear someone’s last breath at night? Why can’t we be left at peace in our home?

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