As we walked into Lodz after an eight hour flight, an hour bus ride, and no sleep, I was amazed at the sight of 70+ students, teachers, and survivors reciting the afternoon Mincha prayer in a cattle-car.
When the first words of Kaddish were recited I broke down into tears. The first thought that came to my mind was, "I wonder how many times the Mourner's Kaddish was recited on this car?"
And then I realized that the question was unimportant at the moment. What matters is that in their name, not only do I have the privilege, but everyone marching beside me, whether religious or not, is here because of them. Because without them I wouldn't be here. Without my friends' great-grandparents, I wouldn't have any shoulders to cry on. Without the survivors marching with us I wouldn't have any stories to listen to.
Sarah R. Haar
Class of 2016
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