Yad Vashem

"When the whole world abandons you, face the storm quietly. Turn your brow toward fate. Suffer silently without complaint." - Anon. Holocaust Victim

I have learned and read about the Holocaust many times throughout my life, but despite the continual reminders and experiences I have had in regard to the Holocaust I am never quite prepared to be exposed once again to the atrocities that occurred during that time.

A few days ago we took a field trip to Yad Vashem, the Holocaust memorial museum here in Jerusalem and I again found myself in awe at the things I saw and heard despite my previous awareness of these events.

The museum is laid out so that you follow the chronological order of events leading up to and comprising the Holocaust and as you walk through the main hallway of the museum, the walls gradually close in on you as the material you are witnessing becomes more uncomfortable.

As we moved through the museum, I had a constant stream of emotions running through me. The pictures and words of the victims hit me with great force as I tried to comprehend the terrible sorrow and dread that must have consumed them. I realized that I would never understand. How could I? I have never been torn from my house, shipped in a train to a place of unimaginable suffering, been treated like an animal with housing unfit for such, pushed to the brink of starvation, watched my family and friends waste away in front of my eyes, or paid the ultimate price of my life due to my beliefs and heritage. How can I even understand a fraction of their suffering?

"Thus in an instant, our women, our parents, our children disappeared. We saw them for a short while as an obscure mass at the other end of the platform; then we saw nothing more."

- on arriving at the concentration camp

Along with photos and words of those who suffered, I saw the pictures and read the words of many who contributed to the terror and grief. As I looked upon their faces, a realization hit me that our tour guide reiterated. The faces before me did not betray the disturbed person within. There was no external evidence that these people sanctioned the extermination of millions of innocent people. There were no fangs or horns. Nothing to give their darkness away. I wasn't looking on the faces of monsters. I was looking on the faces of humans.

As hard as it is for me to imagine what the victims must have felt, it is harder to imagine what the people responsible for the Holocaust were thinking and I suppose that this is partially because I have no desire to even attempt to understand their minds. We as humans may struggle with comprehending extreme suffering, but I believe that the thing we struggle with the most when it comes to the Holocaust is knowing that people within our own race, the human race, were the source of these heinous acts.

Despite the bleakness of this time, there were those who gave all that they might help preserve the lives of the Jews. Thousands were saved due to the selflessness and charity of these individuals. At Yad Vashem, these people were referred to as "The Righteous Among the Nations." These righteous people gave everything to provide a beacon of hope during this time and I have great respect for their efforts and sacrifices.

"I don't know what a Jew is, I only know what a human being is."

- Andre Tokme

As I have thought about my inability to fully comprehend any of the feelings or thoughts possessed by those involved in the Holocaust, I have realized that I am not meant to. I am not meant to feel extreme suffering. I am not meant to understand the motives or thoughts behind cruelty. I am meant to have joy in this life.

"Men are that they might have joy" (2 Nephi 2:25)

The sorrow, grief, and confusion of those involved in the Holocaust was never meant to be felt. These individuals came to earth for the purpose of experiencing joy, but unfortunately the weaknesses and frailties of humans chase away the joy God wants to bless us with. I pity those who carried out the Holocaust. I mourn and respect those who had to endure it. I admire those who fought against it. But my responsibility is not to feel what they felt. I am meant to have joy.