The HeartbreakMature

People have told you of the broken families. They have explained, with hushed voices and downcast eyes like people at a funeral, how children were taken from parents and parents from children; they have spoken of the tortures and the deaths and have written pages of statistics, expecting meaningless numbers to convey the sheer horror of the human deaths. They have told you of the high walls around the ghettos. They have explained about the Jews, the scapegoats, and the disabled or retarded children: those unworthy of life.

You know all this, but what they have not told you--what they could never have told you--is of the heartbreak. The soul-tearing grief of the partings and the agonizing wait for news. The way those left behind stared out of the window, longing for a sign, and those taken stared out at the moon and hoped only for freedom. But they know that their only release will be death: will be the end.

What they have not told you is of those forced to kill their own kind, driven mad by guilt and pain and unable to think clearly, the senseless humiliation and ritual betrayals. They did not explain how bonds were broken and others forged, and they never mentioned the chains that each of these murderers had to wear on their hearts after that day of killing their own family.

I will not give you the sugar coating. I think you are old enough, now, to cope, and if it hurts then that is good. This is the evil nature of our human race, and you must accept that; this is the history of our world and so it cannot now be changed. I am sorry if you long to cover your ears, to make it all fade. It will not. These are the people that must be remembered, no matter how much it costs. Because oh, how much greater was their pain than ours!

It is their pain that you now read. I beg you not to look away.

The End

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