You hate me simply because I am a Jew.
You hate me just because I am not a pure Aryan.
Yet by your own definition I look more Aryan then your leader, the same man who has told you to hate me.
You hate me because you lack the intellectual capacity to recognize that your hate is based on nothing.
You hate me that’s why it is easy for you to kill me, but you only kill the body that encapsulated the essence of me.
You hate me and you will take that hate in to your grave and your hate will die with you, whereas my soul and love will love forever.
You hate me, but I am loved by so many
I am Louis Koe I was born on January 3, 1936. I was deported to Sobibor in June 1943 from Vught via Westerbork on the so-called children’s transport. I was murdered on July 9th, 1943 age 7.
Dear Louis, I have to believe you are an Angel Because if I don’t I get engulfed with hate for those who killed you. But your beautiful face only radiates love.
You are an Angel, you already look up to your new home in Heaven. You were 4 when you were murdered by those who thought you were only vermin. You re not, you never were and never will be. Your murderers are the vermin.
How can anyone look in those eyes and feel they have a justified reason for closing them for ever?
You are an Angel like so many others who died in Auschwitz.
There is a hypothetical question that asks ” Who would you like to meet first when you pass the pearly gates?”
Louis if my time has come, I hope it is you I see first. But til then be my Angel as I will be your voice.
My name is Frouktje Oudgenoeg, I am aged 2. My last name means Old enough.
That is exactly what I am.
I am old enough to sing and dance.
I am old enough to play outside in the garden, come rain or shine.
I am old enough to get my face dirty with jam and chocolate and old enough to get my hands all muddy.
I am old enough to have love given to me in abundance.
I am old enough to wake up at night because of a nightmare.
However I am not old enough to live in a nightmare.
I am not old enough to experience hate
I am not old enough to be deprived from everything that is good in this world.
I am not old enough to die.
And I am certainly not old enough to be brutally murdered.
Yes I was murdered at Auschwitz-Birkenkau on November 2,1942, age 2.
I hope I will be old enough to be remembered by you.
Reached the age of 3 it says in some places.
Reached the age of 3, that is me
.Reached the age of 3, but that is not only me.
For I am so much more them just the age of 3.
I am a child whose only ambition it was to become 4.
If I wanted to to I could have asked for so much more.
All I expected from life was love given to me freely, in return it would give it unconditionally.
Not too much to ask of someone who reached age 3, one would think.
But there were those who thought I was not worthy of that love. And to prove that point. on July 18, 1942 they killed me together with my Mother and Brother in Auschwitz.
Reached the age of 3, that is me Marianne Aandagt
Rest in peace little one, but how can you?
You did not ask to be born but yet you were.
But that was good because it was because of the love between two people, you came to be. You were so wanted.
A blessing to be seen by every one.
Rest in peace little one.
If it was love that ruled the world your lovely smile would illuminate this world for decades to come,.
Alas love does not always rule the world.
Rest in peace little one.
Like so many others you became a subject of hate. Although you were only aged 1 and could barely walk and not even talk, it was enough reason for you to be murdered.
You did not ask to be killed and yet you were.
Your name Claude Alexandre, Born in Lyon January 8th,1943. Murdered in Auschwitz 14 Aug 1944.
Rest in peace little one,but how can you? For you should still be with us.
When the rain falls, my face gets wet.
When the sun shines, it blinds my eyes.
When the snow falls, I want to go out and feel the crunch of the fresh new snow beneath my feet.
When it is muddy, I get dirty.
When I am hungry, I eat.
When I am thirsty, I drink.
When I see a baby cry, I am sad for I know only a few years ago I was a baby.
You see, once you were a baby too.
Once the sun would would blind your eyes, and the rain would make your face wet.
Your mother would also be annoyed when you came in with a muddy face.
Once you were a 5 year old mischievous little angel.
Like you, I am a human being too.
At least I maintained my humanity, where you no longer are that mischievous angel.
The day you killed me in Auschwitz you became a devil.
I am Sandro Sonnino, aged 5. Once a human being, now an angel.
Dear little boy , you are perfect in every aspect . Even your imperfect hair is perfect.
Imperfect and perfect in one sentence is a paradox.
A paradox is what you are because you were hated event though all you gave was love.
It is said that the eyes are the portals to the soul and in your eyes I see perfect love.
Dear little boy your are perfect in every way because there are no imperfect 2 year old’s.
Jacob Loisstraat 12 a, Rotterdam a random address but to you it was the perfect place for it was your home.
Alas your home was not the safe place that every child deserves. Nit because you had a bad family.
No, they loved you for nearly 800 days and each day was perfect because you were in it.
Your home wasn’t safe for one reason only, hate.
Hate by those who didn’t even know you
Hate by those who children of 800 days themselves, so they should know you were perfect.
But their hate made them blind
Dear little boy your are perfect, you were Bernard Leo Laden age 2. Murdered by hate in Auschwitz-Birkenau.
Dear little boy your are perfect, to me you shall always be perfect, may you rest in perfect peace.
I have two arms and two legs
I have two eyes and two hands
I have a nose and two ears.
When I am happy , I laugh.
When I am sad, I cry.
When I am in pain, it hurts.
My blood is red.
My body temperature is about 37 degrees Celsius.
I eat when I am hungry and I drink when I am thirsty.
I need air to breathe.
I go to sleep when I am tired.
When I close my eyes I see nothing
So please tell me is there anything in this, that makes me different from you?
I am Regina Bertha Blein, aged 4.
I was killed in Sobibor even though I am the same as you.
You stole my childhood and took my life for one reason and one reason only. hate!
Because of your hate you denied me to grow up to become a Doctor, who could have save your mother,your father or your child.
Your hate stopped me from being an artist, whose paintings could have brought some much colour and joy to the world.
Your hate stopped me from becoming a writer, whose words would have educated the masses.
Your hate stopped me from being a musician,whose compositions would evoke strong emotions.
Your hate denied me the opportunity to become an architect, whose services were so much needed after the war, even to rebuild your house.
Because of your hate I will not be a mother, I will not be the mother of the son or daughter who could have nursed you in a nursing home.
You stole my childhood and with that you denied yourself so much.
I am Suzanne Mol I was murdered aged 5, in Auschwitz by your hate.
Lest we forget , a line that is so easily said
Lest we forget, it slides of the tongue so easily, but yet.
Lest we forget, it used to be a sentence filled with emotion and elan.
Lest we forget, is now becoming a referential expression and slogan.
Lest we forget, but that is what we are doing
Lest we forget, because the hate is still growing.
Lest we forget, a little girl like Suzanne Gelber will have died in vain0
Lest we forget, that truly would be an outrage, a tragedy and insane.
Lest we forget,Suzanne Gelber who died in Auschwitz aged four.
Lest we forget, lets just not forget anymore.