Bn Òghi time in Poland; the gentle X]Vdh d[ YZÒVcXZ

THIS WEEK I visited Poland for the very first time. I’ve probably avoided this journey because I grew up in a Holocaust-drenchedhome and then lived in Holocaust-steeped-Israel. A few years ago, I visited Lithuania where our family comes from and where, in the village which my great-grandfather left, 2,000 Jews were locked into the synagogue and burnt alive.

I am so glad I finally went to Poland. We were beautifully held within the loving, gentle community of March of the Living UK, and guided by knowledgeable, wise, calm educators. The March of the Living is particularly outstanding in its educational approach as it is neither emotionally manipulative nor has a religious or Zionist agenda. I am most deeply grateful that I could weep without embarrassment, free to do so because others held my hand and did not fret.

The March itself was on the last day of our journey and is an ingathering of thousands of Jews and allies from around the world. We filled the paths of Auschwitz. I was concerned about being squashed amongst what seemed like a vast number of people. Eleven thou-

I could weep freely because others held my hand