Holocaust Remembrance Day started off fittingly dark.
This year we remember the Holocaust in the aftermath of the 7th October massacre, the worst tragedy that has befallen the Jewish people since the Holocaust. There are some who want to call that day another Holocaust, but most disagree. During those awful years, while a few brave individuals risked their lives to save others, most Jews had nowhere to turn. Today, we have a state and an army.
In recent years, when the siren went off, I’ve stood on the balcony facing Jerusalem’s Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Museum. This year, in Tel Aviv, I took a short walk ending at Jerusalem Beach.
There I stood on the raised platform, watching the movement around me. On one side, the waves constantly rose and fell on this windy day. On the other side, people walked or ran past and traffic came in waves, often halting at the traffic light. In the distance, four young men kicked and headed a ball to each other.
At ten o’clock, the siren went off and everything stopped. Traffic came to a standstill, walkers and runners stood still, the young men let the ball roll to a stop as they, too, stood still. Only the waves continued to roll, oblivious to the occasion. Two minutes later the siren stopped, traffic started up, people continued their activities and I walked home.
I’m thinking of the six million who died in the Holocaust. I’m thinking of the one thousand two hundred who died on 7th October. I’m thinking of all the hostages still in Gaza after seven months, who didn’t hear the siren and probably don’t know that today is Holocaust Remembrance Day. I’m thinking please, bring them home.
Miriam Drori, Author 