I will never know the name of my hero. He was a holocaust survivor who I met in a random garden in a resort in Israel. I met him at a time when I was terribly unsure of my next move and was asking for a sign from God. I am sure he was it. I was with my best friend in a secluded garden and he happened to pass by us. It was tough to communicate with him because his English was broken and we didn’t know either of his languages, German and Polish. He told us his story. He told us about how his family was murdered in the gas chambers, about his school being destroyed, his synagogue burned. He was carted to 4 different concentration camps and each time he knew very well could be the last place he would ever go. But he got out. He survived. He endured. He became a paratrooper and sought the freedom of others. The joy in his face as he told us about his wife and grandchildren was the happiest I have ever seen. I could tell it was his proudest accomplishment.
“When there is nothing else, there is still hope.” He told us. Those words will stick with me forever.
So to my tattooed hero:
You showed me what having courage can do. Every time I tell your story, I never feel like I am conveying your message to the magnitude it deserves. Talking in the garden with you will always be one of the greatest honors I have ever been given.
Submitted by Anonymous
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