Chreia

It was raining, and we were outside the Eisenhower auditorium, waiting to get inside.  The guest speaker was Elie Weasel, author of Night and winner of the Nobel Peace Prize.  I was the only one of my friends going see him, but I was in the company of many others who would appreciate his words more than most of my friends, so as far as I was concerned, I was among friends.  We entered the auditorium and had a seat, mumbling, murmuring, and musing about what was about to happen.  On the stage was a small wooden desk with a small wooden chair.  Soon, there was a small white-haired man in between the two, facing the thousand people.  There was now not a word, not a breath, not a sound, yet communication between us and him was as real and tangible as the fact that we were all there.  The air we breathed tightened in our chests and we waited.  He waited.  Then began.  He spoke of his time in Auschwitz and how he watched as everyone he knew died around him.  His father was killed right in front of his eyes by Nazi soldiers during an escape, yet he was so paralyzed, so numb to the brutal violence of the time that Mr. Weasel said he was not able to even shed one tear.  But despite all of this, despite the terror and hatred and violence, he said he did not blame the Nazis in general, or even the particular men who killed his family.  He said he did not hate at all.  To face pure evil in the face and walk away caused him to understand that the only way to defeat hatred is not through hatred.  Do not fight fire with fire.  It is through understanding and love that we prosper.  And the story came to its didactic climax.  He paused for a minute.  I could hear girls sobbing nearby, and even I was choked up by it all.  We sat and we felt the love beaming from this small old man.  As sure as we were all there, we felt it.  He had enough love for all of us.  And he said, "Take information and turn it into knowledge. Take knowledge and turn it into sensitivity. Take sensitivity and turn it into commitment...And whatever you choose to do in life, whatever experiment you decide to undertake, always remember this: think higher and feel deeper.”  Though simple, these last words made that little old man into an iron statue for me, everlasting and towering, forcing my mind and heart into positions I’m not sure I could do on my own.