Murder of a child
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Just a girl, not a soldier or a politician. Just a girl, the only threat she posed was that one day her smiley face would melt someone’s heart. Just a girl, no hate to be seen in her eyes. Just a girl, the only wish she had was to grow up. Just a girl, just…
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I don’t want to be a burden to anyone, just put me in a sandpit and I’ll be happy. I am not a danger to anyone, how could I be, I am only three. All I want to do is to play with my toys, just like any other boy my age. I don’t think…
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I don’t hate you. I don’t even understand what that word means. There are things I don’t like, like Spinach. I’d rather have an ice cream or a lolly pop. Hate is a concept made by grown ups, not by children like me. I only see the good in people. Why should I hate you?…
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Henio Zytomirski was a 9-year-old boy who was gassed at Majdanek Concentration Camp in Poland on November 9, 1942. In 2005, a project called “Letters to Henio” was started in Lubin, Poland. Each year on April 19, Holocaust Remembrance Day in Poland, pupils and citizens of Lublin are asked to send letters addressed to Henio…
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There is no way to rank the sadness of Holocaust stories. Each death is a tragedy, a haunting reminder of humanity’s capacity for cruelty. Yet, some stories resonate with an indescribable poignancy, striking us deeply. One such story is that of Friedel Levie, the daughter of Jozef Levie and Else Metzger. Friedel was born in…
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My mother was born on December 10, 1935, and passed away on January 26, 1996, at the age of 60. It felt far too young, but I took solace in the fact that she lived a full life, witnessing all her children grow up and settle into their lives. Sigmund Cohen, born on the same…
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(For Gretha Frank, born in Amsterdam on December 4, 1939– murdered at Sobibor on July 16, 1943) Born beneath the Dutch grey skies,A baby’s laugh, a child’s bright eyes.Winter’s chill could not confine,The warmth of life, a spark divine. Amsterdam streets cradled her feet,A city’s hum, her heartbeat’s beat.Innocence spun in golden threads,Dreams that danced…
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(November 22, 1934 – November 13, 1942) In Amsterdam’s streets, a child once played,Laughter as bright as the morning’s arrayed.Judic, a girl with dreams untold,It’s a story cut short in a world gone cold. Born to life on a November morn,In a city where beauty and strife were sworn.The cobbled paths knew her tiny feet,Her…
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I will never forget the moment my wife told me we were expecting our first child. It was pure magic. Bringing new life into the world is a sacred, joyful moment that every expecting parent should be able to cherish—free from fear, focused only on the health and future of their baby. My thoughts drift…
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I wish I could tell you beautiful stories about the artist Lunek Milch. I wish I could tell you beautiful stories about the scientist Lunek Milch. I wish I could tell you beautiful stories about Dr. Lunek Milch. I wish I could tell you beautiful stories about the janitor Lunek Milch. I wish I could…
History of Sorts 
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