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Holocaust by Tim Melton What are they? It’s strange to think that this one thoughtwould be the only wonder dwelling in the empty space of my mind. What are these beings? For I had never believed that humans, such as us, could ever commit such evil acts. I see them laugh, and holler, as they toss another unfortunate soul into the infernal pits of the fire. They are devils. I remember them clearly, on that cold winter day. They stormed our small town,
from those frightened. What is there to be frightened of? Do we not all die eventually? We die not only by the fire, but by the cold as well. Shivering and freezing, we can only hope that somehow, God is hearing our prayers. I should not pray anymore; I simply do not feel the need.However, there is something about praying. It is a feeling that most of us Jews could not do without. Hope.This one simple word holds so much for us.
For the workers, out in the fields, wondering when they will return home. For the prisoners, standing in front of the crematory, wondering when their children and grandchildren will eat well again. Even, I feel, for the devils, who are men like us,wondering when they might be able to throw down their guns. Though we are surrounded by the deaths of so many others, we live knowing that our God could not keep it this way.