When I grow up, I am going to be a Doctor or a Pilot or a Policeman.
When I grow up, I am going to be a Baker, or a Carpenter or Fireman.
When I grow up, I am going to write great stories and everyone in the whole wide world will read them.
When I grow up I am going to travel all over the world. I will go to China and Japan. And to Switzerland, Luxembourg and Italy. I will visit New York, London, Rome and Jerusalem.
When I grow up, I will get lots and lots of money and take my parents on a cruise ship, where we will have dinner every night at the Captain’s table. And I will laugh at my Father when he is trying to dance the Foxtrot with my Mother.
When I grow up, the world will be open to me and I can be whatever I want to be.
But I am only five, and evil men don’t want me to become anything. I am only a number to them, and not Srul (Hersch) Goldberg. I am five, and I was killed in Auschwitz.
Central DB of Shoah Victims
Reblogged this on History of Sorts.