Journal entry by Eve Ilsen — 17 minutes ago
I returned this evening in light rain from the fine program of speakers for Holocaust Remembrance Day. Several survivors who are members of our community spoke of help from others, of miracles, of tenacity.
I want to share the story I heard from my father's family:
They lived in Hamburg.
My grandfather Erich was about to undergo an operation when the Stormtroopers came to the hospital for him.
The doctors told the soldiers that he was already in the operating room under anaesthesia, and they would have to return the following day. They left.
The docs rushed into the O.R., where my grandfather was not yet sedated, and told him to get his family out of town that very night; that no surgery was as important as escape.
My grandparents made it safely to the U.S. with my father Harry and his brother Ralph, where my great-aunt Ellen, already in the States for some years, had been camping on people's doorsteps until she found a family willing to "sponsor" them.
So the archetypal story of my family has been that there are some people not of our tribe who are willing to think quickly to save lives, even at serious risk to themselves.
The story has been an antidote to any tendency to imagine that "they are all against us"; it was an introduction, with gratitude, to members not of our tribe who were courageous, smart and good.
May we see more and more inteligent and courageous actions on the part of such people from all our tribes, on behalf of us all, and of the planet which supports our life.