History of Sorts

I miss you, even though I don’t know you and we’ve never met.

I miss you because you could have been the composer who composed my favourite piece of music.

I miss you because you could have been the poet who wrote my favourite poem.

I miss you because you could have been the painter who painted my favourite painting.

I miss you because you could have been the author who wrote my favourite book.

I miss you because you could have been the comedian who made me laugh the most.

I miss you because you could have been the director of my favourite movie.

I miss you because you could have been the teacher who taught me right from wrong.

I miss you because you could have been the chef whose recipes I like the most.

To me, it doesn’t matter if you’re Jewish, Catholic, Protestant, Muslim, Buddhist or Atheist. All that matters to me is that you are a human being. And just like me, or like the words of a song, from flesh and blood, you were made.

But, some have a different opinion on this—a twisted, evil opinion. They did not want you to live. They killed you brutally.

In my thoughts, I see you.

In my prayers, I remember you.

I miss you, Marianne Nunes Vaz, born on the 31st of May 1935 in Amsterdam and killed on the 5th of February 1943 at Auschwitz.

I miss you, although we never met. But, in my heart—I have a place for you.