Tonight I witnessed a horrible sight. People were burning down Jewish synagogues! My own neighbors lit Jewish houses on fire! The kids who went to school with me were harshly beaten, and a couple victims of this crime could never get up off of the ground that they were pushed to. I wanted to tell these people to stop, but what could I do? The whole town, possibly the whole country, was taking part in these actions.
What happened next, was something that I would never, I could never forget. My first grade teacher, my neighbor, and my brother, killed a Jewish student, who was in 12th grade, just one grade older than my brother. After witnessing this disgusting, and brutal event, I wanted to go home and lie down in my bed, breaking out into tears. After about five seconds, though, I was tempted to grab one of the many SS soldier’s guns, and kill every disgusting pig in Germany who took part in destroying the Jewish synagogues, who burned Jewish houses, who vandalized Jewish businesses, and who killed someone of Jewish faith.
I looked around me, watching children, much younger than I, trip and kick other Jewish children. I saw old Jewish men have their canes ripped out from their hands and beaten to the ground. If I was older than 11, I might have done something. But I was only a mere child in the streets of destruction and hatred. There was nothing I could do.
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