Many of the sculptures that grace the grounds integrate the number six,
representing the six million Jews who perished at the hands of the Nazis, into their designs.
The Garden of the Righteous pays tribute to the courageous non-Jews; Oscar Shindler is one, who risked their lives to save Jews from certain death.
These rescuers are awarded the title of Righteous Among the Nations and given a certificate and a medal with the Talmudic inscription “Whoever saves a single soul, it is as if he had saved the entire world.” Trees have been planted on the walkway, marked by a plaque bearing the name and nationality of the Righteous Person. 22,000 helpers have been remembered and honored with planted trees and plaques.
Particularly moving is the Children's Memorial. In a completely dark underground room are glass walls reflecting the flames of five memorial candles, a customary Jewish tradition to remember the dead, and creating the effect of countless flames, each symbolizing the soul of a child. In the background can be heard a woman's voice giving the names of the children, their age and their place of birth. This memorial is a tribute to the approximately one and a half million Jewish children who perished during the Holocaust.
This relatively new museum presents the story of the Shoah from a unique Jewish perspective, emphasizing the experiences of the individual victims through original artifacts, survivor testimonies and personal possessions. Yad Vashem has been entrusted with documenting the history of the Jewish people during the Holocaust period, preserving the memory and the story of each of the six million victims, and imparting the legacy of the Holocaust for generations to come through exhibits and educational programs at this multi-faceted complex.
In the spacious windowless interior, the events of the pogroms and death camps are told in a myriad of ways; recollections of the survivors bring tears to your eyes. One of the last rooms, a healing room for me, tells the story of the marriages of some of the survivors – 7 couples. The nurses provided the brides with gauze for their veils. Of the seven couples that married, each woman gave birth to a baby nine months later.
Upon exiting the museum, the bright daylight and panoramic view of Jerusalem are a stark contrast to the darkness of the interior. The air smells sweet, but the grim events resonate. I find it ironic that it is one spot where capturing peoples faces with the amazing vista of Jerusalem as a backdrop is difficult to accomplish. For me the experience is indelibly etched.
Situated on Ha HaZikkaron, the Hill of Remembrance, Yad Vashem is just west of Mt Herzl. Mt Herzl is a hilltop and national cemetery dedicated to the founder of political Zionism, Theodor Herzl, whose tomb is at the summit of the mountain. As we sat in front Herzl’s marker, our moment of silence was broken by the voices of a school group singing HaTikvah. We joined in.
Mt. Herzl is the burial place of Israel's former prime ministers Golda Meir and Levi Eshkol. Since his tragic murder in 1995, Yitzhak Rabin's grave has also become a magnet for tourists.
He is buried beside his wife, Leah. Israeli presidents and other prominent Jewish and Zionist leaders are also buried on Mt. Herzl.
Since 1951, the northern slope of Mt. Herzl has served as Israel's principal military cemetery, comparable to Arlington National Cemetery. Soldiers, living in the Jerusalem area, who have fallen in the line of duty, are buried there. Mt. Herzl is the venue for many commemorative events and national celebrations.
For those who have never been to a Jewish cemetery, flowers are not placed at the graves; instead, it is traditional for visitors to place small stones on the tombstones. This holds true throughout most of the cemetery. Noticeably different is a section of Mt Herzl when fallen soldiers of the second Lebanon War are interred. These headstones are covered with mementos and remembrances. There are also plastic stools nearby; it is a frequent sight to see family and friends sitting together around the graves sharing stories and memories.
We headed to the Israel museum to see the model of Jerusalem at the period of the Second Temple. Having been here just a few weeks earlier, I listened to Julian’s historical review, and when the kids needed a bit of space,
I headed to the Children’s Museum and Sculpture Garden with Michelle, Jacob and Sarah. I sent Gail to see the Dead Sea Scrolls, knowing we would be passing the cave near where they were found the following day. Boundless energy best describes the young ones! How opportune for a sand box and jungle gym of sorts.
Last stop of the day was a tour of Kibbutz Tzorah, Julian’s home. This is a modern day kibbutz with most of the members working outside the kibbutz. As a community, they have been creative in re-inventing most of the available space to generate income and add financial stability. A winery has met its 10-year goal in under that time frame and produces a success boutique wine;
a Guest House allows tourists to experience life on the kibbutz firsthand; the early education program draws children from nearby communities; and like many kibbutzim, dairy cows are thriving.
Julian’s wife is a mosaic artist and assisted a young group in decorating a bomb shelter as one of their mitzvah projects. We said shabbat shalom to Julian and returned to Jerusalem.
Shabbat was approaching and we discussed many options for observance. The cousins would gather for Shabbat dinner at the Prima Kings Hotel. As the sun set on my last Friday in Israel, I heard the call to go to synagogue. Gail, Buddy and I went to Kabbalah Shabbat at Kol Haneshama, a reform synagogue in the German Colony. It was a lovely, melodious service and my spirit was renewed.
Dinner at the hotel was an experience. The dining room was full to capacity with young, old, ultra-orthodox and the not so observant. There were women in magnificent hats and men, rather slovenly dressed. It was an experience! The buffet was an endless feast of soups, salads, breads and entrees; and, of course, desserts! It was downhill to Beit Shmuel; and we rolled home that night.
And the adventure continues…
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