Lost Voices

Well, my great plans for a travel blog during my trip to Prague didn't work out. I'm back home now. It was a great trip, though.

The most memorable, though, was a trip to Terezin I took on Saturday. It was the location of a Jewish Ghetto during the Nazi occupation - many lost their lives there due to horrible conditions. 84,000 passed through, ending up in the more well-known places of horror like Auschwitz where they lost their lives.

In one room, the wall was covered with names of those who perished. But it wasn't just anyone - it was limited to children. The tragedy was overwhelming. As I looked at the birth dates, I realized these people would be my parents' age. Most were born in the 30's, but perished from 1942-1945. Thousands of lives lost - what contributions would they have made to the world had they not been destroyed by that evil? How many children and grandchildren would now be in the world today if that generation of children had been allowed to live.

As you walk into the room, you are met by a photo of a boy of about 12 years old. Here is the poem he wrote while in the ghetto. He later died in a concentration camp.

A little garden,
Fragrant and full of roses.
The path is narrow
And a little boy walks along it.
A little boy, a sweet boy,
Like that growing blossom.
When the blossom comes to bloom,
The little boy will be no more.

To read such words in the context of that place created an incredible sense of sadness. Yet even today, children's lives are cut short by hunger, war, and sex trafficking and their innocence is destroyed by the self-centeredness of many adults. It must grieve the heart of God.