Yesterday was Holocaust Memorial Day in Israel. The subject is so complex, I decided to write only a few of my thoughts….
April 12th, 2010
Today at 10:00 Israel stood still.
The sirens wailed, not to warn of incoming missiles – this time, like every year, it was the gut wrenching cry: “Remember the 6 million murdered in the Holocaust. Know that you have risen from their ashes.”
Every year sirens across the country go off at the same time. Everyone, no matter where they are, does the same thing – stands, silently, until the sirens stop (2 minutes).
This year was the first time I was in a car when the sirens began. All cars stop, everyone gets out and stands, wherever they are. The traffic lights go from green to red and back again. No one moves. Birds fly overhead; the sun shines and the people are silent.
There is no way to sufficiently encompass the horrors that were, the traumas that burden the first, second and third generations.
It is next to impossible to comprehend the enormity of the miracle that is the State of Israel.
Today Jews in Israel can drive freely, in their nice cars, go where they please. It was their parents and grandparents who were evicted from their homes, stuffed into cattle cars and taken to starve, freeze or be burned to death in concentration camps.
In Israel this Memorial Day is called the “Day of Remembering the Holocaust and Heroism”. There were heroes who fought the Nazi’s, leading revolution against the oppressors. There were those who saved the lives of friends, family and strangers. All these we admire and commemorate.
There is one more kind of heroism. It is silent and modest. And it is the backbone of this country. As I stood, listening to the sirens, I reflected on this heroism and as the siren wail washed over me I felt tears brim in my eyes, read to spill over.
People whose entire families were wiped of the face of the earth – parents, grandparents, brothers and sisters tortured and murdered – came to Israel and created new families.
And had lots of children.
People whose babies were ripped from their arms knew their hearts could never be mended but they did their best to patch them, creating new children that they loved with a ferocity that matched the horrors that were pitted against them in Nazi Europe.
They who suffered unimaginable misery strove to create happiness. And they succeeded.
This is their revenge.
Today their grandchildren walk proudly through the gates of Auschwitz as participants in the March of the Living.
Israeli soldiers stand in that place of horrors and fly the Israeli flag, their uniforms a testament to the power of the Jewish people – no longer helpless. The flag the symbol of the Jewish homeland, rebuilt.
This is more than heroism – it is a miracle.
Am Yisrael Hai – the Nation of Israel Lives!