Holocaust Survivor

Zahava Rendler

I've read news articles about Holocaust Survivors speaking at schools.  I wondered what it would be like to hear first-hand stories of the darkest days in human history.

This week, I heard that Zahava Rendler would be speaking at a nearby Kentucky library the next evening.  I made it in time to be in the front row of a very crowded meeting room.  A short video was played before the speaker began.  I was already disappointed.  Anticipating that I would be hearing the life-experience of a survivor, I had imagined a story of brutal incarceration with the eventual day of freedom followed by a new life with a bright future. 

In this case, Ms. Rendler was little more than a baby when the atrocities began.  But she told her story.  And I was no longer disappointed.  I was ashamed.  Why did I feel that the only story worth hearing would be similar to those in Shindler's List?  How did I not realize that this period of life on earth changed the path for so many people?  It was not only about death camps.  It was about the destruction of life as people knew it.  It was about surviving alterations of life which created unimaginable consequences.

The link attached to her name at the beginning of this article follows closely much of the factual information in her presentation.  However, listening to her story included emotion and quiet, painful pauses even now, so many years distanced from events.  Her words continue to echo in my mind.

• "My name was taken away." (In a shaking voice...)
• "My religion shunned me," (Almost matter of fact...)
• "I didn't understand many of the children in the convent.  There were few that spoke Yiddish or Polish." (Displaying some confusion as to how she managed....)
• "I didn't even know I had a sister who had died until the day I got married." (Somewhat angry she wasn't told that her sister was left behind in a hospital the day the family entered a neighbor's bunker with 28 others to hide.)
• "My father had 11 siblings.  All were lost." (A long pause)
• "I still hear the sounds of children crying during air-raids." (Reflective)
• "If I had been taken, I would not have survived." (Shaking her head)
• "Even now, when I see nuns, I want to hug them." (Smiling)
• "Afterward, it was difficult to pray.  I had been taught how to kneel and cross myself so my prayer looked different from the other Jews in Palestine."  (Laughing. This she said even though she had been told that the nuns did not want to return Jewish children to the parents as they believed that it was in the best interest of the children to convert them.)
• "I was a teacher.  And now, I am a teacher. I teach how to recognize prejudice to prevent hatred."

I read there are about 100,000 people living today who have been through the camps.  We may never meet any of these people.  We may never hear of their first-hand pain. But we can empathize. We can hold them in prayer. But,

• I wonder how many Zahava Rendlers' walk among us every day. Millions, I'm betting.
• I wonder how many stories of neighbors, co-workers, friends and acquaintances we choose to ignore because we look for the rubber-necking awe of tragedy or success.
• I wonder how many times we lose sight of the fact that each person has a story and many of these stories are born of life-changing events. 
• I wonder what kinds of connections could be made with others if we only engaged in listening to their stories.

If all are saved in Christ, then all have un-surpassable worth.  Personal stories are attached to each of these children of God.  I want to hear them.

For he himself is our peace, who has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility, setting aside in his flesh the law with its commands and regulations. His purpose was to create in himself one new humanity out of the two, thus making peace,
Ephesians 2:14-15