Restoration

Restoration

Posted February 01, 2005:
A Reason to Live

by Reuben Morgenstein.

In the October 2004 issue of Restoration an article titled, “A Pair of Shoes” by Karen Van De Loop told a story about a refugee camp, a pair of shoes, and two little girls. In response to this article, a reader wrote Karen a letter telling a story about his mother. Here it is.

World War II had ended and my mother had been released from a concentration camp. She did not know what had happened to any of her family. News never came, and the uncertainty and sense of hopelessness were unbearable.

Though it was a bitter and dangerous time, she could not just sit and wait. So gathering all her courage, she bought a second-hand bicycle (a very expensive item at the time) and filled a large backpack with the clothing she needed including two pairs of stout shoes.

Then she traveled from one refugee camp to another searching for news and hoping to even perhaps find someone from her family alive.

At one displaced persons camp, she met a girl from France, Jewish like herself, who had lost all her family. This girl had barely managed to survive in a death camp, and was now desperately ill from malnutrition and all the diseases that come with it. In spite of her survival—a true miracle—she had now given up hope and wanted to die.

Her life now seemed so hopeless. The hatred of the Jews had not ended with the war. Indeed most of Europe’s religious and civic institutions had co-operated with the Holocaust through their silence, inaction, and above all, indifference.

This girl had experienced this indifference and rejection in her hometown. Since even her friends rejected her, she said, why should she go on living.

But my mother was able to give her hope and strength. How? By giving her one of her pairs of sturdy shoes. If one had shoes, one had a reason to live. That was the mentality at that time.

Today few can comprehend that an immensity can be contained in such a simple gift. Yet greatness can be found in simplicity.

In my mother’s gift were compassion, understanding, and practicality. And we all need practical actions, for we live in a very real world.

But the shoes represented even more. They represented love, a love that could touch and be touched, a love that sought to give reassurance, respect, and healing; a love that most of all gave hope and confidence.

After a few days that girl left the displaced persons camp in her new shoes. She was now able to try to live again.

And in her acceptance of the gift, she gave my mother, and all of us who survived, a greater courage, confidence, and hope. For the gift of love often blesses the one who gives far more than the one who receives.

 

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