History of Sorts

This is a fictional letter, but it is a letter I envisage I may have written to Margot, if I had been a friend or schoolmate.

Dear Margot,

I hope this letter finds you well, though I understand the circumstances surrounding us are far from what any of us could call “well.” It is strange to put thoughts down on paper like this, knowing how little freedom we have and how uncertain the future remains for all of us.

I’ve often thought about how different everything must have felt for you when it all began—the day you received that summons from the Nazis, how that one notice set everything into motion. I can only imagine the weight you carried then, not just for yourself but for all of us. In many ways, you’ve always been the strong, responsible one, haven’t you? I wonder if that burden ever feels too heavy for you, even though you rarely show it.

Despite everything, I admire how you manage to keep your thoughts and feelings so private. Sometimes, I wish I had your quiet strength. I have so many emotions—anger, frustration, fear—and I don’t always know what to do with them. You, on the other hand, seem to hold onto some kind of inner calm, even though I know you must be feeling just as much, if not more, than the rest of us.

I wonder about the dreams you have. We all think about what life will be like once we’re free again, but I imagine your dreams are a bit different from mine. What do you think about school? About your future, a career, perhaps? Sometimes, I picture you as a successful professional, maybe a teacher or a doctor, helping people. You’ve always been so diligent and responsible, traits that would take you far in a better world.

Please remember that it’s okay to let someone in when you feel like you need to talk. I know you’re all crammed together with little space for privacy, but I want you to know that I’m here for you, even if I don’t always show it in the right way.

In these times, it’s easy to feel alone, even when we’re surrounded by others. But we’re still together, albeit with it in mind, and as long as we are, I believe we can hold onto hope. I want to believe there’s still a future waiting for us, a time when you’ll be free to pursue all those dreams of yours without fear or restriction.

Please take care of yourself, Margot. I think of you often and hope you find some moments of peace in the quiet spaces of our days.

With love, stay safe,
Dirk