A Somber Thought . . .

I’ve subbed for the past 2 days. I was showing a video about the Holocaust to a bunch of 8th graders, and it really got to me (After all, I did watch it six times. )It was called, “One Survivor Remembers,” the story of Gerda Weissman Klein. She told the story of her separation from her family (they all ultimately died — she & one uncle were the only survivor out of 67 relatives) and her work in Nazi labor camps. What really got me, though, was the fact that her time ended with a death march. I guess I didn’t really know that much about the death marches, but her 350-mile, 97-day trek ended in Volary (click the link only if you can stand gruesome pics). She was 21 when it ended, and there were only women in her group. She had childhood friends with her, and they all died along the way. They are buried in a cemetery in Volary, apparently the only one where Holocaust victims actually have their names recorded on headstones.

I had to ask the kids for responses to questions, and the one question was this: What do you think you would fantasize about if you were suddenly ripped out of your current life? What ordinary things are you likely taking for granted?

Almost as one, they wrote about family. I had to think for myself about the things that I let irritate me, such as Ava crying at night. Were I suddenly unable to be with her, I know I would long for the privilege of going to her when she cries. And I stress about lots of stuff right now, but if my life wasn’t this, I think I would dream of the chance to think about these things. It’s amazing what perspective can do for you, huh?

Kurt Klein, the American soldier who liberated her (a German Jew himself,) eventually became her husband. I was impressed so much by the fact that he treated her like a person, calling her a “lady” and holding the door open for her. As I rather tactlessly pointed out to the all-male 6th period today, it wasn’t like she was sexy or anything — 68 pounds, white hair, lice, no bath for 3 years . . . What a reminder to me that the true value of a person is so very much deeper than what meets the eye. Maybe I’m a little too fickle . . .

Check out the books by Gerda – I’m now on a personal mission to find and read them. AND, just so you understand why this was so touching to me — the kit that came with the video had pictures of her as a child, pictures of her family, letters between her and her husband, her ghetto ID picture, her new ID after the war, and (the real kicker for me,) childhood pictures of her friend who died on the death march after being kicked in the head. Those sweet 5-year-old girls had no idea what would happen in their lives. . .