The Lucky Ones – By Elizabeth Chappell

As we get off the bus and use the restrooms, I look around to make sure I have the kids that I’ve considered mine all week. They aren’t mine of course, but they have become mine this week. They’re calling me “Trip Mom” and I’ve been keeping an eye on them making sure they’re comforted, have enough water, are wearing sunscreen, all those things I do for not just my own two boys, but all my “kids.” As we start walking through the gates, I can’t help but think and wonder of what would’ve happened to these kids if we were really arriving at Auschwitz in 1942. The girls and I would’ve been removed from my husband and the other teachers that are males. Would we have been chosen for work or selected and moved on to the gas chambers? I worry about the young ones with the skirts on and their beautiful hair, shining smiles, and wonder in their eyes. What would the SS guards have done to them? I can’t let this thought enter my mind because even the possibility is too gut wrenching. Though we go through the buildings just as spectators now, it’s hard to not imagine having been a resident of this terrible place. Walking through the rooms of what was called Canada, I see all the pots, pans, and dishes of kitchens that held Seder dinners. That big sauce pan right there definitely had grandmother‘s recipe made in it hundreds of times before it arrived here. That’s why you bring things like that when you leave your house. Not just because you would need them but because of the memories they possess. They weren’t just things; they were parts of lives…moments in time that we’re hoping to be remembered and cherished for years to come. We moved to the room with the shoes in among all the black and shoes, whether they’ve been blackened over time or because of all the long walks that have had to be taken, I’m not sure. But among them is one red shoe. I can imagine the young woman putting those on with a beautiful dress for a night of dancing with her friends and maybe her favorite dance partner. She never got to dance in them again. My girls would wear those beautiful red shoes with their long flowing skirts and adorable tops. Those red shoes represent hope and love and joy. Those are the things we need to carry forward from this place. Moving to the room with the children’s clothing and shoes broke me. I know exactly where I have stored my own children’s first pair of shoes. I’m pretty sure my own parents had mine cast and bronze. And yet here they are thousands of little baby shoes, toddlers infants some may have never learned to walk and others worn through from running. So many never got past that little size 2. What would’ve become of that one that little boy or a little girl? I think about my own two boys. Now 16 and 15 they would’ve immediately been taken because they are the size of grown men. Both strong and hard workers. They probably would’ve been sent off to work. But would they have survived long enough to escape the camp? I am one of the lucky ones. I get to WALK OUT of Auschwitz today. Holding my husband’s hand, with my Trip Daughters just behind me…sunburned and exhausted but alive. Alive and filled with knowledge and hope. These new daughters of mine give me so much hope for what will come. They will bring these lessons to their friends and peers….they will not let hate reside in their hearts or lives. For them, I will do the same. For them I will continue resonating love and light into each person I encounter to ensure that love will hold a stronger place than hate.