Orly Shachar: A Letter to a Child No More

Natasha Kisler Shachar. Born in 1931. In Auschwitz 1944.

A letter to Natasha Kisler Shachar:

Dear Natasha:

Today, I brought you back with me to Auschwitz, a place you didn’t want to ever see again. The journey is not finished, I said, and you looked the other way. It looks the same and it feels as bad, you said, and I looked right past you. The light, so gray and pitiful, washed the country side with so much pain. The barb wire fence cut through the landscape with so much hate. The rain, these little misty drops of misery, covered everything with a thick layer of hurt.  Did you see the sun when you were here? Did you look around for spring in the midst of a perpetual winter?  You were only a child, beautiful and proud, when you arrived at the end of the world.  You looked up and saw nothing.  No love, no mercy, not even pity. The sun came down and then it disappeared.  Others thought it would come up again but you knew better.  There was no sun in your face, only a vast and cold emptiness of despair. Once you were a happy child, a loved child, a beautiful child.  Was this the end of your happiness? Did you see the tattered love before you?  Did you ever feel beautiful again?

Today, I am asking you, dear Natasha, to let me understand. My feet touch the ground you walked on.  My shoes leave marks where your toes dug in the soil. I see the horror and hear your cry.  Please stop, dear Natasha, stay put and explain. How?  Why? Just say.  Did you pretend it all away?  How did you manage?  Did you know then what I see today?

Today, I claim you, dear Natasha. Hold my hand and I will lead you out. Let me tell you what you are yearning to hear.  This terror will end. You will live again.  Look at me and see your son.  Wipe your tears and see your grandchildren.  We are all in you, beside you, ahead of you.  We will get you through it, calm you and encourage you. We will build you a home, give you a family and grant you much love. You are not alone.

Today, I pray for you, dear Natasha. A child of Auschwitz is only a flower waiting for the rain.  May your heart be filled with faith and patience. May the sun rest upon your face again. May love heal your wound and may peace nestle in your arms. Hope, Dear Natasha, hope hard and strong.

So, now it is time, Dear Natasha, it is time to leave this place. Hear the silence and cry no more. Find your way out and give us life.  Take your place among the living and know you won.  You looked the devil in the eye and he is no more.  You are free and we are you.

 Always,

Orly Shachar