The Young Wear Handmedowns

      When I was very young I wanted to know how long.  How  long
would I be trapped inside the shadow of the holocaust.  How  long
would  I  have  to  remember?  How long would  I  have  to  know,
realize, believe, be educated, and be the vicarious survivor  for
six million martyrs?  I wanted to know how long.
      I  grew up a little and found my answer.  Forever.  Forever
would  I know, live, and be constantly reminded of the holocaust.
Forever  would I have to look at the world, never being  able  to
turn  away.  Forever will I have to watch the world and  try  and
stop history from repeating.
     But why me, I didn't lose anyone.  None of my relatives were
killed,  none  were  camp survivors.  I wasn't  alive,  I  wasn't
involved,  I  couldn't help, I'm not to blame,  yet  I  feel  the
world's guilt, and that of those who refuse to see.  I wanted  to
know, why me.
     I grew up a little and found my answer.  Because I am a Jew.
Because I lost six million members of my family in the holocaust.
Because  my family survived but six million of my aunts,  uncles,
and  cousins died screaming, whimpering, or in aganized  silence.
Because I am not the wicked son, Moses led me out of Egypt and  I
went  through the Nazi Death Camps.  Because I am alive  and  six
million Jews are dead.
      But,  what  is  the  point  of  remembering?   The  spanish
inquisition  didn't stop the Holocaust, though it was remembered.
What  can  be done with memory besides remembering?  I wanted  to
know, why remember.
      I grew up a little and found my answer.  Remember because I
am  a  human  with  humanity.  Remember because I  can,  remember
because it happened, and so that it won't happen again.  Remember
because others will forget, because many never knew, because many
have turned away and forgotten.  Remember because I will have  to
teach others to remember, when the survivors are gone.
     But, what if I am not strong enough to teach?  What if I can
not carry six million on my shoulders and present them to a world
that has shrugged?  What if I can not carry their memories to the
minds  of  others?  What if I break and repudiate my actions,  my
knowledge, and my teachings?  I wanted to know, what if I am  not
strong enough to teach.
      I  grew  up a little and found my answer.  Every breath  is
taken in by six million lost souls.  Every breath is exhaled with
the  force  of  their burned lungs.  Every word I say  or  write,
every  memorial deed, every remembering thought is a victory  for
my  Judaism.  Every breath I take remembering is a victory for my
humanity.  Every remembering motion tells me I have not given  up
my humanity.