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Hatred was like some otherworldly beast, seeded in small acts of violence and oppression against our Jewish citizens, growing in strength as the power-hungry fed it with rhetoric and propaganda.
No one seemed to know what to do, but it was not in our national nature to stay still and await catastrophe, so instead—people kept active.
Hatred spreads—it doesn’t burn out with time. Someone needs to stand up and stop it.
Life has a way of reminding you that you are at the mercy of chance, and that even well-thought-out plans can turn to chaos in an instant.
Even in the worst of times, life takes on a rhythm and the days blur into one another.
“Hitler wants land and power, and it is much easier to convince an army to die for you when you have an enemy to fight,” Father said, quite gently. “And the Jews make for an easy enemy, because people will always hate what is different.”
“But Tomasz, just because our suffering isn’t the worst, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t count.”
Sometimes I also kind of hate him, but mostly, I love him. That’s marriage sometimes. That’s just the way it is; the years can’t all be kind, because life isn’t always kind.
