MYSTERIOUS VISIT TO AUSCHWITZ

By Zalman Ben-Nun

“Is everything ready?” I excitedly asked my friend. “I’m starting to video.”

I gently pressed on the red button on the new video camera, improved my position facing the camera and began to say, “It’s nice to meet you. I am Shneur and next to me are my friends, Avrumi and Sruli. We are conducting a special experiment with this time machine we invented and hope we will be successful!”

I connected the red wire that hung from the camera to a tiny hole at the edge of the time machine. Now I hoped that everything we would see would be preserved forever by the video camera.

“Let’s go, ready?” Sruli asked excitedly as he took a step toward the round opening of the machine. I left the video camera and together with Avrumi hurried to enter.

I pressed the date for a long time and then gently pressed the yellow button. Splaaaaaash!

Utter darkness. Terrible bone-penetrating cold. We lay close to one another on the cold ground. On the right stretched a very high barbed wire fence with signs on it warning that it was electrified. At the end of the fence we could make out a watchtower that stood very high. An armed sentry directed a powerful searchlight at the fence. On the left, only dozens of meters away, were low wooden barracks. An armed guard walked around.

“Try to be absolutely quiet,” I whispered.

“It looks scary and dangerous,” added Avrumi.

We crawled silently in the direction of the barracks when we suddenly heard a sound. It was the sound of sobbing. We silently crawled toward the source of the crying. Whatever will be, will be, I thought, we had to get inside.

The barracks were pathetic looking. On both sides were rows of iron shelves on which people slept under thin blankets. A small light hung from the center of the room which left the room mostly in shadows. The utter silence was broken only by the sound of crying coming from the other end.

We took step after step until we saw him. The old man. His closed eyes were sunken in his pale face. His broad forehead was furrowed and a cloud of sadness hovered over his shrunken face. Now we could hear him clearly. It was a cry, but with words and a familiar tune, “Ani maamin … b’vias ha’Moshiach …”

Sruli put his hand on the shoulder of the man who opened his eyes in a fright. “Who are you? What do you want from me?” he asked.

“You have nothing to worry about,” I answered him. “We are a group of children from the Holy Land.”

The man looked at us in disbelief and asked, “From the Holy Land? How did you get here? To Auschwitz?”

We briefly explained how we got there and how, when we heard his cries, had come inside. The man nodded and tears began flowing from his eyes. He said, “Our situation here is very bad. Every passing day increases the chances that we will be taken out and killed, but despite everything, we believe that Moshiach will come. So every time, when I find it difficult, and I feel I am at the breaking point, I sing the song Ani Maamin.”

The man wiped away a tear and continued in a weak voice. “Oh, if we only knew who Moshiach was and when he would actually come…”

“But we do know who he is!” the three of us chorused.

“You know who? I can’t believe it. Please tell me.”

Avrumi volunteered to explain and said, “In our generation, the Lubavitcher Rebbe is Moshiach and he says that Moshiach will be revealed any minute and redeem the Jewish people!”

A hopeful smile appeared on the man’s face. “Then you are surely preparing accordingly,” he said. “Behaving better, doing mitzvos in a beautiful way and enthusiastically. And surely you are telling everyone! Ah, if the people here in the barracks knew who Moshiach is, they surely would act completely differently, their emuna would be stronger and their actions would hasten his coming.”

Now it was our turn to look surprised. How did we not think of this? Throughout the generations, when the Jewish people looked forward to the Geula, praying for the coming of Moshiach, they longed to know who he was and when he would come. While in our generation we know who Moshiach is, know he is about to come, and nevertheless, well, it’s not pleasant to have to say this, but we are not that ready. Our Ahavas Yisroel is not what it should be among Chassidim. Our mitzvos are not done so beautifully. We are aware of the Redeemer and his G-dly strength but still, we don’t behave accordingly and don’t make sure to let the world know about him.

The old man looked at us kindly and we could see he understood us. A shadow of a smile appeared on his lips and he gently caressed my face.

“Don’t be sad, children. You certainly cannot take me along with you but you return where you came from and behave according to the special reality you are in. Behave as befitting Jews who merit to see who Moshiach is and wait for him to come. And then, when he comes, we will meet in Yerushalayim!”

A sudden loud noise had me turning toward the door. There stood an angry armed guard. Sruli rushed to take the remote control out of his pocket when the German guard gave him a terrifying look. We stood there, rooted to the ground, with our teeth chattering and our knees trembling in fear.

“Don’t worry children,” whispered the man. “With Hashem’s help nothing bad will happen. Press on your remote control. You have nothing to fear.”

The guard took another step forward and Sruli pressed on the yellow button. Splaaaash.

Terribly shaken up, we found ourselves in the doorway of the playroom of my house. The time machine made a faint beep and the blinking lights slowly went off.

“That was incredible!” I said.

Sruli affirmed that. “Yes! The experiment was a success!”

“I didn’t mean that,” I said with a smile. “What we learned was incredible. Now we need to behave accordingly, as Chassidim, a moment before the hisgalus.”