Yad Vashem

This week things got a little switched up. We had our field trip day today and get our free day tomorrow. It was a very interesting field trip to say the least. We went to Yad Vashem. For those of you who don't know, it is a holocaust museum.

Before I talk about my experience, I need to tell you a little bit about me. I am heartless. At least that is the nickname my friends gave me after I didn't cry during the beginning of Up. I don't cry in movies, I hardly cry in real life. Furthermore, I can be a very sympathetic person and carry a lot of the weight when my friends are going through hard times. But I don't do empathetic very well. I can't relate and I don't pretend to.

I also have to talk about my brother. My brother is four years older than me and grew up my best friend. Sure we've had our fights, but especially since I've gone to college, we couldn't be closer (disregarding the 7,000 miles between us right now). Just to get a glimpse of this, I'll tell you a quick story. When he was about 16 he got pneumonia, which isn't contagious. At least that's what they tell you. When really, it's only contagious for a very short period. Because I was so concerned about him and did everything to take care of him, I caught it from him.

Now you're probably wondering what all this has to do with, well, anything. I promise, it does have a point. I started out walking through this museum just taking in everything. Some of the things I saw and read broke my heart and I felt sad, but I didn't really feel. It wasn't real to me, it wasn't personal. I sympathized but couldn't empathize.  My favorite part of the museum was reading the letters and journal entries, it made it more real for me. A few rooms in I came to a journal entry of a boy, maybe early teens, and it shook my entire world.

Tears streamed down my face, and for the rest of the museum I couldn't completely focus because his words echoed in the back of my mind. From then on, everything I looked at was completely real.  I felt. I truly felt for the people. There were times when I wanted to run, that I felt like I couldn't face these things.Each new thing I looked at, I couldn't stand still. I was so unraveled and several times had to just walk to a new room as story after story and picture after picture literally broke me to pieces.

I don't want to start a debate. I don't want to point fingers. Bottom line, I feel for the Jews and what they went through. I feel for all the people and families killed in the war itself, not sent to the camps but fighting for what they thought was right. It was all just a mess.

Now, when I think about the holocaust I will forever hear the words of that boy: We have to leave the ghetto tomorrow. I don't know if they'll let me be with my little sister.