The Price of Grumbling

The Price of Grumbling

 

she resisted grumblingWhen I was young, my sister and I used to play “Anne Frank.” We created a trapdoor that led to the third level of our house on Kenwood Avenue. We’d creep down to the kitchen for food and supplies—Cheerios, raisins, water, Band-Aids, flashlights, books, paper and pencils—hauling it all up to our Secret Annex. When others could be heard in the house, we remained absolutely silent, quieting our dolls if they cried. We never touched the curtains of the two small windows up there. It was a rule, especially when any German sirens sounded.

Anne Frank was a young Jewish girl living with her family in Amsterdam when Nazis seized the Netherlands. Within two years the persecution of Jews escalated. Her family and four others went into hiding, living in a makeshift area of her father’s office building. The “Secret Annex” was only 75 square meters of space for eight people. Employees and friends provided food and information. There, they hid in silence, never going outside for two years.Continue reading

No Sparrow Unnoticed

No Sparrow Unnoticed

I was in Budapest two weeks ago. Travel generally transports one into the drama and glories of ages past, but I had a moving spiritual experience that only God could’ve orchestrated. On the blue Danube River that separates “Buda” from “Pest” – two cities, now one – there is a memorial to the Jews who died in the very last days of World War II.

Danube ShoesIt is called, Shoes On The Danube Bank.

wallenberg

Raoul Wallenberg

 

 

 

In July 1944, Raoul Wallenberg, of Schindler’s List fame, came to Budapest as Secretary of the Swedish Foreign Ministry with a plan to save as many Jews as possible. He created thousands of Swedish identity documents for the Jews, protecting them from Nazi deportation. He is credited with ultimately saving as many as 100,000 people.

Meanwhile, the Nazi Party had handed over their power to Hungarian fascists known as the Arrow Cross party. Hungary had initially sided with Germany. On the night of January 8, 1945, Arrow Cross militia marched thousands of Jews to the Danube in Budapest to be shot. The shoes—left behind—brought reality to the human genocide. Though it took place 70 years ago—the terror felt palpable. The shoes, now bronze replicas, are a permanent memorial. Our guides said 600,000 Hungarian Jews were killed in the last five months of the war. The Soviet Red Army would liberate the city only a few weeks after the Danube slaughter.

Memorial Plaque ShoesAt the memorial, I closed my eyes. Intense compassion stirred me down to my toes. Even now as I write this, my eyes are filling with tears.

Where were you God?

To my surprise, a scene unfolded on the screen of my mind: I saw the mass of Jewish people, young and old, male and female, trudging toward the river. Fascist solders flanked them on each side. The people had to know what was about to happen.

But so did God.

Angels vastly outnumbered the soldiers on each side and followed along with the death march. As the people neared the river’s edge, angels passed through the militia as if the soldiers were ghosts.Continue reading

The Blight of Less Than

The Blight of Less Than

Back in my youth, I had an Irish Catholic friend. She was expressive and funny, and I especially loved how her hands did much of the talking.

But she was also defensive—like a person under siege. At times she misread situations or comments as if people were out to hurt or demean her. Sometimes maybe they were. But often, I felt she viewed her circumstances through a cracked lens. If that lens had a name, it would be called, “Less Than.”

As Coldplay sings in their song “The Scientist”…

Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions,

Oh let’s go back to the start…Continue reading