Friday, August 24, 2007

On The Subject of Tattoos

There's an old man and a little child sitting on a bench. The child says to the old man “Mister, that's an awfully boring tattoo on your arm. It's just a bunch of numbers.”

The old man replies: “Well, I was about your age when I got it, and I kept it as a reminder.”

“A reminder of happier days?”

“No, a reminder of when the world went mad. Imagine yourself in a land where your countrymen followed the voice of political extremists who didn't like your religion. Imagine having everything taken from you, your entire family sent to a concentration camp as slave laborers, then systematically murdered in this place. They even take your name and replace it with the number tattooed on your arm. It was called the Holocaust, when millions of people perished just because of who they were.”

The little boy, with tears in his eyes, said: “So you kept it to remind yourself about the dangers of political extremism?”

“No, my dear, to remind you.”

6 comments:

joared said...

A story that has to keep being told over and over.

Trace said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Trace said...

We must never forget...

bill said...

Welcome back. Been missing you.

I hope everything is better with your mom.

Hokule'a Kealoha said...

So very glad you posted this. We must never forget, and the survivors are fading away with time....

on-my-mind said...

Short but meaningful. A powerful reminder for the kid and for us.

Good to visit your blog again, CP. I hope you are doing well.