I got a little side tracked in my intent to share next my visit to Yad Vashem's Garden of the Righteous. The Children's Memorial just kept haunting me. You'll understand when you read today's post. I promise; next week, the Garden of the Righteous!
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She was fifteen when she died, an aspiring journalist; a feminist ahead of her time, an optimist in the worst of times. A kindred spirit I came to know when I was fifteen, twenty years after her death.
Anne Frank’s diary lent a poignant voice to the fight for human dignity. Her image lent a face to the 1.5 million innocent children who died during the Holocaust.
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She was fifteen when she died, an aspiring journalist; a feminist ahead of her time, an optimist in the worst of times. A kindred spirit I came to know when I was fifteen, twenty years after her death.
Anne Frank’s diary lent a poignant voice to the fight for human dignity. Her image lent a face to the 1.5 million innocent children who died during the Holocaust.
Photo courtesy of Wikipedia. “It's utterly impossible for me to build my life on a foundation of chaos, suffering and death. I see the world being slowly transformed into a wilderness; I hear the approaching thunder that, one day, will destroy us too. I feel the suffering of millions. And yet, when I look up at the sky, I somehow feel that everything will change for the better; that this cruelty too shall end, that peace and tranquility will return once more.”
—Anne Frank
—Anne Frank
Anne Frank was at the forefront of my thoughts as I made my way through Israel's Yad Vashem Children’s Memorial.
Hollowed out from an underground cavern, the Memorial was a haunting and yet beautiful tribute to humanity’s promise – our children.
To the left, just beyond the entrance, the walkway opened into an area devoted to displaying large images of children, those whose lives had been snuffed out with so little regard during the Holocaust. I could feel hot tears behind my eyes seeking release in the silence that enveloped the magnitude of so much innocence lost. As a mother, especially, looking into the eyes of those beautiful faces, I struggled with the reality of such an unimaginable tragedy.
I followed the group into the next room, a room lined in mirrors and lit by a single candle. Beautiful pinpoints of light shone bright in the dark, a night sky of infinite luminescence. I grabbed hold of the railing along the walkway as I looked up, overwhelmed by the poignant depiction of the sheer magnitude of this tragedy. I listened with a heavy heart as one name after another of those children killed, along with their tender ages at the time of their death, drifted into the darkness, reinforcing the reality of this horrific loss.
To the left, just beyond the entrance, the walkway opened into an area devoted to displaying large images of children, those whose lives had been snuffed out with so little regard during the Holocaust. I could feel hot tears behind my eyes seeking release in the silence that enveloped the magnitude of so much innocence lost. As a mother, especially, looking into the eyes of those beautiful faces, I struggled with the reality of such an unimaginable tragedy.
I followed the group into the next room, a room lined in mirrors and lit by a single candle. Beautiful pinpoints of light shone bright in the dark, a night sky of infinite luminescence. I grabbed hold of the railing along the walkway as I looked up, overwhelmed by the poignant depiction of the sheer magnitude of this tragedy. I listened with a heavy heart as one name after another of those children killed, along with their tender ages at the time of their death, drifted into the darkness, reinforcing the reality of this horrific loss.
“Look at how a single candle can both defy and define the darkness.”
― Anne Frank
Photo courtesy of Spence Anopol.
I felt so much love for all those innocent children sacrificed, deeply understood the promise lost. I can’t imagine the pain of carrying on in the face of such a senseless, gut-wrenching loss.
Otto Frank, Anne Frank’s father, was the only family survivor. The Frank family was betrayed in 1944 by an anonymous informant two years after going into hiding; all were eventually sent to concentration camps in Germany. Both Anne and her sister Margot died of typhus in Bergen-Belsen concentration camp in March, 1945. The camp was liberated by the British 11th Armoured Division in April of the same year.
Otto Frank, Anne Frank’s father, was the only family survivor. The Frank family was betrayed in 1944 by an anonymous informant two years after going into hiding; all were eventually sent to concentration camps in Germany. Both Anne and her sister Margot died of typhus in Bergen-Belsen concentration camp in March, 1945. The camp was liberated by the British 11th Armoured Division in April of the same year.
“I don't want to have lived in vain like most people. I want to be useful or bring enjoyment to all people, even those I've never met. I want to go on living even after my death!”
― Anne Frank
― Anne Frank
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