Dear sara,

it took me several weeks , until I was able to digest your stories to the exent, that I will now try to put down some of my thoughts.

Your picture and your way of reporting ( and of course all the terrible descriptions) , don't leave me any more, completely possessed and fascinated me.

My first reaction was to jump and run away, but I could not do that' could not flee reality. But how am I going to cope with the reality ?
Many of my age try to push away any thoughts of our history, by saying:
"It wasn't my fault " or " I didn't take part in it" leave me alone with the stupid Nationalsocialism "

Of course we are a new generation, but still our history remains with us. It cannot be denied, under no circumstances should it be forgotten, we carry the responsibility, to see that this will never happen again anywhere in the world. I think, that is what you meant, when you said: " You are our hope"

Actually , it is this sentence that impressed me most, because it surprised me.

I felt quite sick during the lecture, becaause I was ashemed, after all I have grandparents whose past lies in the second world war and was always denied. hidden-and then your almost redeeming sentece, that meant so much strengh, willpower and responsibility.

I would like to promise you, that I will do my utmost, not to disappoint your hopes.

But there is something else in me, that I could hardly formulate, it is the question : what did i feel when I listened to you:
I didnot want to feel pity, because pity paralizes. I didnot want to hat all those, who did this to you, either directly or indirecty by looking away. because hatred doesn't get people anywhere, only blocks. Ididn't want to feel pride, because ,I (my generation respectively) am maybe your hope...

I admire you for strength, your courage, your perseverence and your will to live, although you also embody the opposite: weakness, vulnerability, fear and fragility.

To be honest, Iam glad to have met you, glad not ever to be able to erase you impressive picture out of my memory.

At the end I have a small story for you, that happend to me to-day, when I went for a walk with my dog in the woods and was dreaming to myself, my dog discoverd a small starved, timid animal in the bush, a furry black something, that will hopefully turn into a grown tom-cat one day.

Although these two kinds of animals normally hate each other, because they speak two different languages, my dog immediately addopted this tender creature, guards it's every step, loves it like a son.

This gives hope, Sara the hope that something like this can exist in the world !

Of course I took the little kitten home and will try to bring it up with love, but it is so weak, that I'll probaly sleep very little to-night, for fear that it might die.

I wish you all the the imaginable best, and strong support, that will not permit you to break on your own tales and experiences.

yours Gesha

(reprint was permitted by the author)