The little old lady

Before you begin reading, I just want to let you know, I have less than 2 hours of sleep today, so please excuse any typos or bad grammer.  Today, during one of the tours of Warsaw, an elderly women walked past a group of us, turned toward us and mentioned something about the Holocaust in Polish, which someone from our group picked some words out translated roughly that she had family that survived the Holocaust and they now live in Israel.  Although we did not fully understand what she was saying, we were connected by theme of family, religion and our history.  Earlier in the day, the students who came from the USA met up with the students who came from Israel and went to the Jewish graveyard in the Warsaw ghetto.  While visiting this site, we stopped by one of the few markers that outlined a mass grave sight of those who lost their life in the Warsaw Uprising.  The headstones of many others had a symbols of what that specific person would be remembered for within their own community.  Sadly, the people who were killed during the uprising did not have a tombstone or anyway to commemorate what they would be remembered by. They also had no name written to document that their final resting place is in that pit, due to the war the office that held the records was bombed.  The people that lost their lives during the uprising had a family, friends, and people who cared about them and would have wanted them to be remembered for their good. The nice old lady reminded us that even though many of us do not have blood relatives who have been through the Holocaust, we must remember what occurred and to make sure that we prevent something like this never happens again.