Marcher's story


		The March of the Living was unlike any other experience I have had because, instead of taking it in through my eyes and ears, I felt it with my heart. In Auschwitz , I touched a slat of wood in the women's barracks where some poor mother, daughter or grandmother laid her head to go to sleep at night, and I felt her fear and pain in my heart. In the gas chamber, I touched the scratch marks of people striving to live as long as possible before facing the inevitable, and I felt their panic. Outside Mengele's quarters, I felt the despair of the poor twins who were experimented on. At the shooting wall, I felt the shivers running down my spine. In my heart, I felt the pain of 6 million of my brothers and sisters. In Madjanek, I felt a personal connection with the victims as I literally touched their shoes – thousands of shoes – THOUSANDS! With each shoe, I tried to imagine the personality traits of the owners of these shoes, but there were just so many. So many shoes that belonged to so many people. Of course, I often felt the tears running down my face in response to this utterly disturbing sight in front of me. It was not until I saw the mass grave that my heart truly broke. I saw those ashes and realized that one handful of ashes was equivalent to one person – one incredibly special, blessed human being. That handful was one of Hashem's beautiful creations – a son, daughter, mother, father – one person. There were ashes for over 70 tons of ashes in that “grave.” I felt like I was going to crumble into the ashes like those innocent people lying right before me. I wanted to get out of that place as fast as I could. At the same time, I wanted to mourn these people – entire families – my family. I wanted to leave for erushalayim and our homeland. I felt at home as we landed in Ben Gurion Airport . All around me people were kissing the ground, and they were so relieved to be in a place where they knew they belonged. When we marched with 3,000 Jews from all around the world to the Kotel, I was overwhelmed with happiness and joy. Just days before, I was sitting by a mass grave where many thousands of people were massacred strictly for being Jewish – and now I was standing with Jews from all over the world. I couldn't understand the languages being spoken, but when someone in the crowd burst out chanting “Am Yisroel Chai”, we all sang and danced together as one -- as Jews celebrating being Jewish and cherishing this special moment in one big triumph. After the March, I rested my head on the Kotel and prayed to G-d and thanked him for blessing me through this journey and for giving me this amazing opportunity. At that moment, I thought to myself that earlier this week, I was davening in Birkenau and now I am praying at the holiest of holies. I have traveled from a world of death and hatred to a world of love and faith. I have taken away one basic idea from what I have seen on the March of the Living, that is to treat every individual, whether Jewish or not, with love and respect. I know my great Aunt Hannelore Strauss was special – at least from what my grandfather Henry tells me. She became one of Hitler's statistics, but to my grandfather and our family she means much more. My heart goes out to all the Jewish souls (neshamas) and the lives that were lost in the Holocaust. In honor of these victims, I want to lead a more meaningful, heartfelt Jewish life in their honor, because now I feel in my heart what it means to be Jewish. Rachel Strauss (2007) Riverwood High School

The March of the Living was unlike any other experience I have had because, instead of taking it in through my eyes and ears, I felt it with my heart.

In Auschwitz , I touched a slat of wood in the women's barracks where some poor mother, daughter or grandmother laid her head to go to sleep at night, and I felt her fear and pain in my heart. In the gas chamber, I touched the scratch marks of people striving to live as long as possible before facing the inevitable, and I felt their panic. Outside Mengele's quarters, I felt the despair of the poor twins who were experimented on. At the shooting wall, I felt the shivers running down my spine. In my heart, I felt the pain of 6 million of my brothers and sisters. In Madjanek, I felt a personal connection with the victims as I literally touched their shoes – thousands of shoes – THOUSANDS! With each shoe, I tried to imagine the personality traits of the owners of these shoes, but there were
just so many. So many shoes that belonged to so many people. Of course, I often felt the tears running down my face in response to this utterly disturbing sight in front of me. It was not until I saw
the mass grave that my heart truly broke. I saw those ashes and realized that one handful of ashes was equivalent to one person – one incredibly special, blessed human being. That handful was one of Hashem's beautiful creations – a son, daughter, mother, father – one person. There were ashes for over 70 tons of ashes in that “grave.” I felt like I was going to crumble into the ashes like those innocent people lying right before me. I wanted to get out of that place as fast as I could. At the same time, I wanted to mourn these people – entire families – my family. I wanted to leave for erushalayim and our homeland.

I felt at home as we landed in Ben Gurion Airport . All around me people were kissing the ground, and they were so relieved to be in a place where they knew they belonged. When we marched with 3,000 Jews from all around the world to the Kotel, I was overwhelmed with happiness and joy. Just days before, I was sitting by a mass grave where many thousands of people were massacred strictly for being Jewish – and now I was standing with Jews from all over the world. I couldn't understand the languages being spoken, but when someone in the crowd burst out chanting “Am Yisroel Chai”, we all sang and danced together as one -- as Jews celebrating being Jewish and cherishing this special moment in one big triumph. After the March, I rested my head on the Kotel and prayed to G-d and thanked him for blessing me through this journey and for giving me this amazing opportunity. At that moment, I thought to myself that earlier this week, I was davening in Birkenau and now I am praying at the holiest of holies. I have traveled from a world of death and hatred to a world of love and faith. I have taken away one basic idea from what I have seen on the March of the Living, that is to treat every individual, whether Jewish or not, with love and respect. I know my great Aunt Hannelore Strauss was special – at least from what my grandfather Henry tells me. She became one of Hitler's statistics, but to my grandfather and our family she means much more.

My heart goes out to all the Jewish souls (neshamas) and the lives that were lost in the Holocaust. In honor of these victims, I want to lead a more meaningful, heartfelt Jewish life in their honor, because now I feel in my heart what it means to be Jewish.

Rachel Strauss (2007) Riverwood High School