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Meeting a Survivor
I hadn't known. If I had, would I have gone. The answer to such a question I shall never know, but I am quite glad at I did.
Last Year, I took a trip to a synagogue. Who knew that such a trip would forever change my life? My classmates and I had shuffled in through the glass doors, chattering as we did so. As we entered, we were greeted by a woman who gave us the rules and regulations in which we were to abide by.
We entered a room which had red velvet curtains lining the walls, though there hadn't appeared to be any windows. The room smelled of burning incense, like any place of worship usually does. I was puzzled at first. I hadn't known where we were or what we were going to be seeing and doing. I had never entered a synagogue before and I was left to ponder such thoughts silently.
The woman told us that we were to observe the photographs and records which were neatly displayed on large tables which were also covered with the red velvety fabric.
I hurriedly made my way towards the tables, leaving my friends to follow behind. Upon the tables were records and pictures of which I had never seen before. The very thought that they existed had never crossed my mind before.
The pictures show the hardships that were endured by the Jewish people while Hitler was in command, otherwise known as the Holocaust. I had heard his name many a time before, yet I had never known why he was of such importance.
I saw records, pictures, and many more things, but the one thing that truly amazed me was the silence in the room. It was as if the world was in harmony and everyone had made amends to let the true meaning of the holocaust ring true in a sea of souls. I had never heard such silence before and at that very moment, I learned that the Holocaust was a brutal and terrible event in the history of our world, yet the way that it managed to unite a group of people in a room at once, was a mind-boggling experience for me.
We understood its meaning and the effect it had on the lives of millions.
It was only when we went further into the synagogue and into the place of worship, that I truly noticed the toll it had on the world. In the temple, sat a man. He went by the name of Jay Sommers. He told us his tales of his childhood and what Hitler's reign of terror had done to him. He let us know his terrors, weaknesses, and the conditions he and his family endured, him, being the only survivor.
It wasn't his words that captivated me and brought me to tears from his tale, but the way that he spoke them. He spoke of the world with high praise and he didn't stereotype all races. He held no prejudices and was fascinated by the ways of the world.
Jay Sommers taught me that the world shall go round and round, but the thing that matters the most is the way that you spend it. He taught me that the prejudices of this world are not what you should dwell on, but all of the wonderful things that this land has to offer.
The experience was one that I shall never forget, as long as I shall live. Thank you, is what I would say to him. Thank you, for all you have done, Mr. Jay Sommers and thank god that you are here to educate the people of today.