The Butterfly

I just returned from the Northwest Reno Library where I had the privilege of hearing Ela Weissberger, a holocaust survivor, speak. Ela is one of 100 children (out of a total of 15,000) to survive the concentration camp at Terezin. She was invited here to Reno during Artown by the Nevada Opera. The Nevada Opera is presenting a children’s opera called Brundibar! which was written at Terezin and performed by the children of Terezin. Ela played the cat in all 55 performances during her 3 ½ years at Terezin. She also wrote a children’s book called The Cat with the Yellow Star: Coming of Age in Terezin.

Ela Weissberger is another example of a hero in my book, an inspiration, and a role model. Someone to remember when I’m having a bad day or things aren’t going my way. Imagine living everyday anticipating you were going to be shipped off to die. She spoke of saying "see you later" to her friends as they were taken away. She said she never would (and still won't) say "good-bye". During her talk today she had such a positive attitude and told so many stories, some happy, some sad, but all inspirational and educational.

She also recited a poem by Pavel Freidmann who was also at Terezin. He was killed at Aushchwitz on September 29, 1944. For me, butterflies have always symbolized joy, and I think maybe they did too for Pavel Friedman, at least for one fleeting moment.

The Butterfly

The last, the very last,
So richly, brightly, dazzlingly yellow.
Perhaps if the sun's tears would sing
against a white stone. . . .

Such, such a yellow
Is carried lightly 'way up high.
It went away I'm sure because it wished to
kiss the world good-bye.

For seven weeks I've lived in here,
Penned up inside this ghetto.
But I have found what I love here.
The dandelions call to me
And the white chestnut branches in the court.
Only I never saw another butterfly.

That butterfly was the last one.
Butterflies don't live in here,
in the ghetto.

-Pavel Friedman 4.6.1942