Yom Ha Zikaron

This is not about the Holocaust.

This is not about how I feel about the Holocaust.

**

Last night marked the eve of Yom Ha Zikaron, a somber memorial to those who died in the Holocaust. To commemorate the event, my kibbutz held a gathering of kibbutzniks young and old, some even survivors themselves. An elderly survivor played the violin. A young woman held her survivor grandmother's hand as she told her story. A photo slide show was shown. Candles were lit. I danced with my classmates to pay tribute. In the end, everyone stood to sing in Hebrew. I did not know the words. I stood silently and listened to this room full of people singing and was touched by the sight of my friends' tears and emotion.

Today at 11am during ballet class, we stopped as a horn blared for a full 2 minutes where we stood still in silence. Some classmates left the room to stand outside. Those inside looked down reflectively and respectfully. Some were overcome with emotion. How can one not be?

The horn stopped and we slowly ebbed back into the flow of class. Back into the flow of life.