Sam

Exiled from the Promised Land, we made this land our home For centuries we lived here, lived in prosperity and shalom We fought for this our country, we helped it grow Now people wish to plunge us into a great sorrow No civil service, no parks, no entertainment, no rights Few protested while fascism was at its heights Children were taught that we were undesirable Anyone who said otherwise was in great trouble A new I.D card we were given with a distinct J Our beards were shaved in public and what could we say? The synagogue where we all prayed, man and woman from every class Vanished overnight leaving only some broken glass Made homeless, we were stuffed into ghettos There, children were shot as they smuggled in some potatoes We won’t survive this kind of life any longer Re-settlement? Anything but this ghetto would be much better It’s crowded, it’s maddening; it’s cramped, it’s suffocating This box-cart is definitely not meant for

     I don’t like it here. I don’t understand why father brought us to this city when we had our own house and farm in the village. At least we had food there, however little. It has been a week since I saw bread. I forgot the taste of meat. My brother keeps asking my mother for food but where can she get it from? The other day I saw people lying next to the road. They were very still. I wanted to go near and see but father said they were sleeping. My father goes out every day in search of work or any food. Mother and I wait eagerly at the door in the evening. It is water again … for breakfast, lunch and dinner.      Nothing can get worse than this. -Anton Shevchenko Kharkiv, May 12 th , 1933. (An estimated 7.5 million Ukrainians would die in the Famine-Genocide between 1932-1933)             I feel alone most of the day. The only friend I ever had left for America. He asked me to go with him but I didn’t have the courage to make a decision. I don’t know why I am not wante

       Day of Wrath, Day of Hope            I wonder how many Chinese living in Nanking on the eve of the Japanese invasion were clinically depressed and how many had just bought their new house. I wonder how many Poles on the eve of the Nazi invasion were facing such problems in life that they were contemplating suicide and how many girls had just said “Yes!” to their lovers. I wonder how many people living in Kolkata on the eve of ‘The Direct Action Day’ were unemployed and hungry and how many had just finally cleared all their debts. I wonder how many families were broken beyond repair in Phnom Penh on the eve of The Khmer Rouge victory and how many had just graduated. I wonder how many Tutsis in Rwanda suffering from terminal illnesses had lost all hope in life on the eve of the 100 day massacre and how many had just received their first Holy Communion.                     And I continue to wonder as I read history and current affairs. I wonder as I continue to live.