Tuesday, July 24, 2012

The more things change, the more they stay the same ...

Innocents.  Painting by Holocaust survivor.

The camps kept it hidden from view.
-today the clinics do the same.

Not far from us, flames were leaping up from a ditch, gigantic flames. They were burning something. A lorry drew up at the pit and delivered its load-little children. Babies! Around us, everyone was weeping. Someone began to recite the Kaddish. I do not know if it has ever happened before, in the long history of the Jews, that people have ever recited the prayer for the dead for themselves .... Never shall I forget that night, the first night in camp .... Never shall I forget that smoke. Never shall I forget the little faces of the children, whose bodies I saw turned into wreaths of smoke beneath a silent sky. - "Night" Elie Wiesel

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