When I was a youngster, I had several opportunities to visit Washington, D.C. One of my favorite places to visit was the Holocaust Museum. People all around me often were somber with tears running down their cheeks. I, however, never found the museum to elicit tears from my eyes. I was fascinated with all the artifacts. To gaze upon a large mound of eyeglasses and a massive pile of shoes taken from concentration camp detainees seemed incredible. Here were actual things from the Holocaust.
When I was a bit older, I had the opportunity to visit Denmark and the Netherlands. Both these countries have fascinating museums about their respective resistance movements. As I moved through these museums, I was filled with great hope and even joy after reading about incredible acts of defiance and amazing rescue missions. "Way to go! Way to outwit the Nazis!"
A year later, I had the opportunity to visit Mauthausen concentration camp in Austria. Again, a sense of fascination took hold of me. I had read countless books about people surviving the concentration camps, and it was surreal to be visiting the camp. I was even excited when I saw the 186 stairs of death which led from the quarry up to the concentration camp. I had read about these stairs--hundreds perhaps thousands of people died on these steps. Some died when their feet slipped and they fell to their death; others perished when the tremendous weight of the quarry stones they had to carry was too much for the person, and they were crushed when their body collapsed from fatigue. As I viewed each section of the camp, nothing seemed to make me sad.
The very last place I visited was an oven in the crematorium. Around the oven, there were name plaques with people who had perished there along with where they were from. I gazed from plaque to plaque. My eye was drawn to a plaque which had freshly cut flowers arranged in a vase. I cannot remember the man's name, but I distinctly remember he was from Las Vegas, Nevada. Immediately my eyes filled with tears. After reading countless stories about people surviving the Holocaust, they were always from distant places such as Germany, Poland and Hungary. No one ever was from the USA...and perhaps this fact always isolated me from feeling any connection to the Holocaust. Now, as I gazed at the plaque which read Las Vegas, Nevada, the Holocaust suddenly became very real. As I studied the flowers, I realized they were freshly placed there. I frantically searched the people around me. Was this man's family here? Another wave of grief took hold of me as I reflected that this man's family was still alive and still mourned his death. Here I am halfway around the world and there are people from my own country still grieving the loss of their loved ones killed in the Holocaust.
So, today, as Israel and Jews from around the world mark this day--the anniversary date of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising--as a day to mourn the loss of those killed in the Holocaust, let us also not forget. Let us not forget the 6 million Jews killed, the millions of others killed from around the world, and those still mourning the death of their loved ones. May peace fill your hearts and minds.
Lord of Peace, Divine Ruler, to whom peace belongs. Master of Peace, Creator of all things. May it be Thy will to put an end to war and bloodshed on earth, and to spread a great and wonderful peace over the whole world, so that nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore. Help us and save us all, and let us cling tightly to the virtue of peace. Let there be a truly great peace between every person and their fellow, and between husband and wife, and let there be no discord between people even in their hearts. Let us never shame any person on earth, great or small. May it be granted unto us to fulfill Thy commandments to "Love thy neighbor as thyself", with all our hearts and souls and bodies and possessions. God who is peace, bless us with peace.
-Rabbi Nachman ben Feiga of Breslov, 1773-1810
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