Murder of a child
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Gerda suffered from a form skeletal muscular paralysis and was taken from her mother then transferred to a so-called “children’s specialist department of the Municipal children’s Hospital in Stuttgart. A specialist had come to the family home to examine Gerda. The ‘Doctor’ took the child into a separate room. Gerda’s mother was not allowed to…
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As of April 29, 1942, Jews in the Netherlands were required to wear a yellow Star of David on their clothing. This was to single them out as different from the rest of society. Although the only difference between the Jews and the rest of the Dutch population was their religion. Other then that they…
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Your killing me did not stop your hate. Hate is like a disease, a cancer—it eats at you bit by bit, and the more you hate, the sicker you get. Hate is like a tumour in your head. It drives you insane up to the point that you don’t even realize anymore that killing an…
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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.…
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My smile offends you, and when I see your eyes I see hate. I see hate although I do not know what hate is. It is a word people around me use. I have no notion of the concept of hate, I am only 22 months old. All I know is love. My smile offends…
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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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