Gratitude, Compassion

Last week, we went to what used to be the town of Lidice. To give you a quick recap, it was a town completely destroyed by the Nazis for essentially no reason one day. All the men over 16 were killed, the children either killed or "Germanized" and the women over 16 sent to concentration camps. What resides there now are monuments and a museum in a huge, beautiful (eerily so) park. After visiting the museum and walking around, we had the opportunity to sit with a survivor (she was the youngest "woman," 16 and two months, so was sent to a concentration camp) and listen to her speak about her life and then ask questions. It was so moving. They asked us to write them and talk about our experience there, and this is what I said:

Dear, Ms. Sklenickova,  

I hope this message finds you well.

At the end of our wonderful discussion with you, you asked us to write you about our experience in Lidice. I looked forward to doing so, because it was an opportunity to express my gratitude to you and also my growth from the experience.

Coming to Lidice was, in one word, heart-breaking. Observing the ways in which humans destroy each other tears the heart into pieces. However. I realized after coming to Lidice that compassion is born of this kind of ache. Compassion in the form of sympathy and empathy unites us and pulls us forward and away from the horror that mankind is capable of. This is why I thank you endlessly for telling your story to us and sharing such an intimate part of your life with countless strangers. Compassion does not justify destruction nor does it redeem it, but it seems to be the one good that comes of it. And the good that comes from compassion? Well, I don't need to describe the way compassion changes the world for the better. That's what I am getting at: I am thanking you for making the world a better place by instilling compassion in your listeners every time you share your story. It is a sacrifice I cannot imagine, so I thank you again and again. 

I took this photo of a boy and his family during my visit to Lidice. The scene of the boy playing while in the background you see his family and the cross representing those who were killed really moved me, because I couldn't stop thinking about how, in a way, you have helped give this boy the simplicity of this moment. By sharing your story, you have given him and all children a chance at the happy and simple childhood everyone deserves instead of the heartache many face. This is nothing short of incredible.

Thank you, and I wish you and your family well,

Lana