Posted by PS on March 20, 2004 at 21:19:17:
"A Man and His Little Sister"
Will you remember me? Tell me. Will you remember me too?
Of course.
You see, I am leaving you so few memories. But it's
not my fault, you know. I was small, and you had no time. I liked to
play and you didn't. You were forever buried in your books, and I
wanted to laugh and run and sing with my friends; we were too small for
you. That is why I am afraid you may forget me.
Don't be afraid, little sister. I shall never forget you.
You promise?
I promise.
You will remember how I looked?
Of course. I shall never be able to see a child without seeing you.
The golden reflections in your neatly combed hair. Your blue eyes, so
gentle, so wise. Your high forehead, your half-open mouth. Your voice,
timid and pure. I see you, little sister, and I ache. I see you in the
night, I see you in the crowd, lost and captive. I see you going away
and it wrings my heart. What am I to do? What am I to say...
And here I was afraid that . . . How foolish of me.
I have forgotten nothing, little sister.
And you will say that I was eight years old?
I shall.
And that I liked to play with girls older than
myself?
I shall.
And you will also say that I have never seen the sea?
I shall.
And that I never attended a real wedding?
I shall.
And that I never hurt anybody.
You never hurt anybody. Not anybody.
You will say all that? You promise?
I promise.
Swear it.
I swear it to you.
Then I am happy.
That, too, I shall say. I swear it.
You know what? I am going to tell you something that
will surprise you. You want me to?
Yes, I do.
I worry about you.
Why do you worry?
You are outside and alone. Whereas I am inside, and
not alone. Yes, I worry about you a lot: what are you going to do, how
will you be able to live without us? As for me, soon I shall be with
Grandfather again; he will take me on his knees and sing me his Hasidic
tunes. And I shall be with Grandmother again; and she will bless me as
she always has on Friday afternoon before the arrival of Shabbat. I
shall be with all those we love, all those we have loved. Only you will
remain far away . . . my poor brother, how sad I am for you.
You are nice, little sister.
You know what? I have an idea. I shall not leave
you. Would you like that?
Yes, I would.
Then look at me again.
I am looking at you.
I am cold. I am wearing my winter coat, and I am
still cold.
I too, little sister. I am cold too.
I am wearing my winter coat because it's pretty. I
received it, do you remember when I received it?
For Rosh Hashanah.
I was so proud. It was the most beautiful present I
had received in my whole life. And then, it kept me warm. Even when I
ran in the snow or fell on the ice, I was warm. Now I shiver from the
cold.
Me too, little sister. I see you, and I shiver from the cold.
What should we do? What can we do?
Nothing, little sister. There is nothing left to do.
But you will speak even when you do not see me?
I shall try.
You will say that I liked to sing? That I liked to
listen to you sing?
I shall say that too.
And that I loved the Holy Days?
You radiated joy.
And Shabbat? You won't forget to say how much I
loved Shabbat?
It made you glow.
And the Shabbat songs?
You sang them at the table.
And you will speak of my love for God?
Yes, little sister.
And my grief at losing you, losing all of you, will
you speak of that too?
I shall carry it inside me.
One more thing.
Yes?
When you speak of your little sister leaving you
like that, without a hug, without a goodbye, without wishing you a good
journey, will you say that it was not her fault?
It was not your fault.
Then whose fault was it?
I shall find out. And I shall tell. I swear it to you, little
sister. I shall.
Wiesel, Elie. "A Man and His Little Sister." In A Jew Today.
New York: Vintage Books, 1978.
An der Selektionsrampe in
Auschwitz-Birkenau
Auschwitz, 1944