Pt. 3
Purim, a celebration of life. A
commemoration of a season when the life of the Jewish nation was on the brink
of extermination, but was miraculously salvaged in the person of a Jewish
queen.
Not unlike the plan of a second, more
recent Haman, but not before 6 million of my dear student’s countrymen
succumbed to his diabolical plot. My own uncle, an American Army staff
sergeant, marched into the Buchenwald Concentration Camp and witnessed the
results of Hitler’s foul program to rid Nazi Germany of Jews, and other
so-called ‘undesirables.’ He rarely recounted the memories of that day; (but
not without tears).
In the past several days I came across
the true life story of a well-known aircraft disaster. Three decades ago a
passenger jet went down in a large American city. All but one of the men,
women, boys and girls aboard the airplane succumbed to their injuries. A four
year old girl named Cecelia lived, and recounted how that when the plane began
to descend her mother unbuckled her seatbelt, and spraddled the seat in which
her young daughter sat; covering her with her own body.
Thank God for all who have gone on
before us to preserve life, and for their countless deeds, both great and
small; in order to preserve all the Cecil’s and Cecelia’s of this world.
I am the product of the countless
generations which have preceded me, and I owe them a debt I can never
adequately pay. I am who I am because of them. The life I now live, and what I
have subsequently become is altogether wrapped up in who they were. My very
nature and genetic structure is, in essence, the product of billions who preceded
me, and who continue to live in and through me.
I am forever grateful for their lives
and sacrifices.
Thank you, Jane for your all too apt
reminder.
And,
… Thank you, Queen Esther.
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By
William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary" Vol. 52. Copyright pending
If you wish to share, copy or save, please include this credit line.
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