My zaidies, bubbies, aunts, uncles, and cousins were all killed in that hellish place. When I looked up at the dark skies over Auschwitz I knew it was our holy martyrs calling out, “Do not allow this to happen again.” As for the raindrops, I recognized them as well. They were the tears of our family members consumed in the Nazi inferno.
During those visits to Auschwitz I couldn’t help but contrast the situation in those days to our present reality. Back then we couldn’t defend ourselves. We didn’t have an army. We went like sheep to the slaughter.
Today we have an army. Today we have weapons. But our tears keep falling. At the moment we have a “cease-fire.” We congratulate ourselves on destroying many of the enemy’s terror tunnels. But does that mean we can take a deep breath and relax? Does that mean our children, our elderly, our infirm will be able to sleep peacefully? Does that mean we can go forth unimpeded on our mission to be a source of blessing to mankind?
I refer back to that song from Yom Kippur 1973: I promise you my little girl, this will be the last war.How simple. How naïve. When the world is a jungle, can there be a last war? Sure, you can get rid of some of the ferocious beasts – but many more will come back with the same intent of establishing a jungle kingdom here on earth.
Missiles, rockets – these can easily be replaced. Tunnels can be rebuilt, especially when there are nations willing to provide the wherewithal for it. Hashem Yerachem – G-d have mercy. What are we to do? What is the solution?
To be continued
