History of Sorts

I saw a robin yesterday. The saying goes, “When robins appear, loved ones are near,” alluding to the belief that the robin is a messenger. Not a messenger from the living but from the dead.

In that belief, the robin doesn’t bring a sad message—but a message of hope and encouragement.

Then I wondered was the robin sent by Nelly Vega, a 9-year-old girl murdered at Auschwitz on 9 July 1943. Was she perhaps telling me, “Thank you for remembering me,” or maybe saying, “Go on, you have so much more work to do?”

Was the Robin perhaps sent by Gizela Minc, a 10-year-old girl murdered in Auschwitz on 19 November 1943? Did she send a message that although people should know better now, there is still so much hate? Hate can only be fought by education and a degree of love.

Perhaps Louis Abraham Belifante sent Robin, a 4-year-old boy, murdered on 25 October 1944 in Auschwitz. Maybe his message was a message of love. Possibly, he tried to tell me that he has forgiven those who murdered him, but that doesn’t mean their act should be forgotten, and justice still needs to prevail.

Or maybe the robin was curious to see what I was doing in the garden. Whatever the case is, I shall continue telling the stories of those who can no longer do so themselves.