“Bbbut, but, but Grandpa, what did you do?” I was searching for an answer to this crazy tale.
“Benny, they may have starved me until I was frail, beat me until I bled, and worked me until I could no more. They stole my name and considered me a number, and deprived me of any human dignity. But as mad as they were, and as hard as they tried, no one could ever take away my Jewish pride, my courage, and my will to survive. And they knew it.” My eyes grew wide and my lip dropped open.
“But Grandpa, what made you believe?”
“Well son I, I,” – my grandfather took a deep breath – “G-d was pushing me up and up, and as I flew against the wind, I kept my head held high and I knew that if I just pumped a little harder, I could reach the sky.”
“Grandpa, are you a hero, like Superman?” Grandpa smiled as he gently kissed my forehead and pulled me close.
“No,” he whispered into my ear as he embraced me into soft loving arms, “I’m a Jew.”
