“Remember the past, live in the present and trust the future.”

                                                              -- Nahum Goldmann

I visited this spot 25 years ago, and again 20 years ago, and (not knowing what to expect) began to feel an overwhelming connection to my people, my ancestry, and those who have come or will come to this wall and who love these stones. In the last twenty years, I have changed and the world has changed, but the connection I feel when I stand at the wall remains. I recited Kaddish for those who came before. I recited the Shema for all those who live in joy, and I recited the Shehecheyanu for those who have yet to come.

Growing up 30, 40, 50 years after the Holocaust in a Jewish community, the Shoah was everywhere. I read and listened and witnessed story after story about Nazi atrocities and Jewish subjugation. I became inured to the point that I asked myself this morning if I had any tears left to shed for the Holocaust. I found the answer was yes. I will always have tears to shed for human suffering. But as I stood there in the Room of Names at Yad Vashem, my tears were not of sorrow. They were of rage. I am furious that the Nazis murdered so many, cutting short millions of human stories. Twenty years ago I understood and mourned for the tragedy of my people. I have changed and the world has changed, and I have learned what it is to lose someone I love. To see stories cut short that should have continued chapter after chapter. This is no longer an abstract concept for me. It is real and I feel it to the pit of my soul, and I am enraged.

Three Prayers at the Wall

This is the wall that I built
(before I was cast out and slaughtered)
and now I have returned.

This is the fabric that I wove
(before I was cast out and slaughtered)
and now I am wrapped in it.

This is the connection that I forged
(before I was cast out and slaughtered)
that now rejoins the world.

Feature photo of the Valley of the Fallen at Yad Vashem by Laura Paull.