this is mine
Death
Night a book by Elie Wiesel about the Holocaust is about many different things. Death is everywhere in this book and event, but I have chosen to write about three occurrences, the hanging of 4 people, the death of children and babies, and the death march. While some seem so obvious and not too horrible, the impact of all of this on Elie is important, and these occurrences make the Holocaust sound a little worse than just 6 million Jews dead.
“‘In the name of Himmler… prisoner Number… stole during the alert… According to the law… paragraph… prisoner Number… is condemned to death. May this be a warning and an example to all prisoners.’” Many people died from being hanged, some fairly old and few really young. They were hanged for commiting a “crime”, and would be hanged in front of them all as an example.This example was to be a warning, a little reminder that they are “lucky” to be alive, to be served that food. “I remember that I found the soup excellent that evening.…” But sometimes, the hangings made them feel sick, all of them because it just didn’t seem justified. “I witnessed their hangings. I never saw a single one of them weep… Except once. The Oberkapo of the fifty-second cable… He had a young boy under him, a pipel as they were called- a child with a refined and beautiful face, unheard of in this camp…. The Dutchman’s little servant was loved by all. He had the face of a sad angel.”
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
New Beginnings
all is forgiven
that made my day
i feel a lot better
things won't stay the same.
i thank you so much
i felt so heart-broken
you became a missing piece
that is now getting fixed
things may not be perfect
we will both be so careful
i love you so much
i hope that i'll deserve it.
that made my day
i feel a lot better
things won't stay the same.
i thank you so much
i felt so heart-broken
you became a missing piece
that is now getting fixed
things may not be perfect
we will both be so careful
i love you so much
i hope that i'll deserve it.
night essay- lauren m
hey, it's Madeleine. My friend and I have essays due Monday and need harsh critism..... Lauren is gonna log onto mine to check her comments....... we love you guys sooooooooooooooo much..... cu at cwp
this is Lauren's.......
“The race toward death had begun.” (page 8) That’s where Elie’s story begins, living a life that he enjoyed until they came. The Germans came, crammed them into ghettos then took them away. Night, by Elie Wiesel, is the story of a young boy who witnesses and survives the Holocaust. One of the major themes of this book is death. Death by fire, combat, and starvation and exhaustion are three examples of this theme.
“In the air that smell of burning flesh.” (page 26) Death by fire. As they walked off the train, leaving behind a life they knew to a life of terror and fear. The first thing that they noticed was the smell of burning flesh from the crematories. How they could burn innocent people is beyond me. Elie saw kids and babies getting thrown into the fire without a second glance. Where was humanity? And he could do nothing if he wanted to live. He saw bodies turn into smoke and ashes, life being destroyed. It stayed with him forever. Humanity only saw what it wanted to see, looking through rose colored glasses. When they took them off, what they saw shocked them.
“The audience stared at these skeletons of the men, fighting one another to the death for a mouthful.” (page 95) The Holocaust victims were giving very little to eat. They were starved. When they were going on the train to Buchenwald, they were giving no food. Of course, the Germans had plenty, but the victims, in their eyes, didn’t deserve food, they would die eventually. They were treated like animals. At one stop, a passer by threw bread into the cattle car they were on, a fight for the crumbs of bread, broke out. A battle of savages. The Germans watched on like it was an interesting sport. But the danger and starvation was real. He saw a son attack the father but in vain for others attacked the son. Both died, lying next to each other. Turned against one another when they should have been sticking together. This is the evil that the Holocaust inflicted upon families, upon friends, upon individuals.
“Only those who could still stand were able to get out.” (page 98) When the cattle cars reached Buchenwald, those who could stand left the transport cars. About 100 got into Elie’s cattle car, only a dozen came out alive. They was no proper buriel. They just left them, not caring about anything except about what happened to them. They were given no food which led to starvation and they were exhausted. Some just went to sleep and never woke up. It made grown men cry in rage, fear, and hopelessness. No one deserves to starve. Not to be fed because they thought you weren’t good enough. Plus the fact that they were beaten, treated ill and had to work, that is not a good combination. No one cared for the sick. Every time a new person needed in, someone else died. The weakest link, always the weakest.
In the camps they threw people into the fires. They pitted people against each other by letting them kill each other over food. They starved and exhausted them till their death, not many survived. Elie was liberated form Buchenwald. Inside him were memories of these horrible times. His parents, siblings, and most of his friends were dead. He wrote the book to preserve the memories of those dead, and to show the world that the Holocaust really did exist. In this amazing book, he captures the raw emotion of feelings he had to hide inside a teenager during this terrifying account in history. “‘You don’t understand,’ he said in despair. ‘You can’t understand.” (page 5) And we don’t.
this is Lauren's.......
“The race toward death had begun.” (page 8) That’s where Elie’s story begins, living a life that he enjoyed until they came. The Germans came, crammed them into ghettos then took them away. Night, by Elie Wiesel, is the story of a young boy who witnesses and survives the Holocaust. One of the major themes of this book is death. Death by fire, combat, and starvation and exhaustion are three examples of this theme.
“In the air that smell of burning flesh.” (page 26) Death by fire. As they walked off the train, leaving behind a life they knew to a life of terror and fear. The first thing that they noticed was the smell of burning flesh from the crematories. How they could burn innocent people is beyond me. Elie saw kids and babies getting thrown into the fire without a second glance. Where was humanity? And he could do nothing if he wanted to live. He saw bodies turn into smoke and ashes, life being destroyed. It stayed with him forever. Humanity only saw what it wanted to see, looking through rose colored glasses. When they took them off, what they saw shocked them.
“The audience stared at these skeletons of the men, fighting one another to the death for a mouthful.” (page 95) The Holocaust victims were giving very little to eat. They were starved. When they were going on the train to Buchenwald, they were giving no food. Of course, the Germans had plenty, but the victims, in their eyes, didn’t deserve food, they would die eventually. They were treated like animals. At one stop, a passer by threw bread into the cattle car they were on, a fight for the crumbs of bread, broke out. A battle of savages. The Germans watched on like it was an interesting sport. But the danger and starvation was real. He saw a son attack the father but in vain for others attacked the son. Both died, lying next to each other. Turned against one another when they should have been sticking together. This is the evil that the Holocaust inflicted upon families, upon friends, upon individuals.
“Only those who could still stand were able to get out.” (page 98) When the cattle cars reached Buchenwald, those who could stand left the transport cars. About 100 got into Elie’s cattle car, only a dozen came out alive. They was no proper buriel. They just left them, not caring about anything except about what happened to them. They were given no food which led to starvation and they were exhausted. Some just went to sleep and never woke up. It made grown men cry in rage, fear, and hopelessness. No one deserves to starve. Not to be fed because they thought you weren’t good enough. Plus the fact that they were beaten, treated ill and had to work, that is not a good combination. No one cared for the sick. Every time a new person needed in, someone else died. The weakest link, always the weakest.
In the camps they threw people into the fires. They pitted people against each other by letting them kill each other over food. They starved and exhausted them till their death, not many survived. Elie was liberated form Buchenwald. Inside him were memories of these horrible times. His parents, siblings, and most of his friends were dead. He wrote the book to preserve the memories of those dead, and to show the world that the Holocaust really did exist. In this amazing book, he captures the raw emotion of feelings he had to hide inside a teenager during this terrifying account in history. “‘You don’t understand,’ he said in despair. ‘You can’t understand.” (page 5) And we don’t.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
UPDATE
Hi everyone,
Just letting you know that I now have my
own blog with all of my past writing and more!!!
Be sure to stop by...I miss you guys!!! Everyone is
invited!!! The URL is:
www.heartonpaper-bela.blogspot.com
Please come and see me!!! And I won't stop writing on
this blog either!!!
Don't forget to put your heart on paper,
Bela
Just letting you know that I now have my
own blog with all of my past writing and more!!!
Be sure to stop by...I miss you guys!!! Everyone is
invited!!! The URL is:
www.heartonpaper-bela.blogspot.com
Please come and see me!!! And I won't stop writing on
this blog either!!!
Don't forget to put your heart on paper,
Bela
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Bleeding Heart
One sole droplet
from the fragile pink shape.
It hangs there,
never to hit ground.
It hangs there,
taunting those who watch.
Held captive inside the heart,
never to be let go.
the flower hangs there,
while prying,
mischievous
eyes are set upon it.
Then it endures more pain
than before.
Torn off of the stem,
the bleeding heart is crushed
with one close of the hand.
Maybe ripped down the middle,
so that inside shows through.
Not as pretty on the inside
Unless pain is understood.
No longer thought of as perfect,
No longer thought of as superior.
Others watch from their bush,
all hanging from one stem.
It is their common link,
it is what holds them together.
Now the bleeding heart
is off of them stem,
forgotten on the ground.
No common link
is shared anymore.
Left there to stay until found,
when it can be ripped apart again.
from the fragile pink shape.
It hangs there,
never to hit ground.
It hangs there,
taunting those who watch.
Held captive inside the heart,
never to be let go.
the flower hangs there,
while prying,
mischievous
eyes are set upon it.
Then it endures more pain
than before.
Torn off of the stem,
the bleeding heart is crushed
with one close of the hand.
Maybe ripped down the middle,
so that inside shows through.
Not as pretty on the inside
Unless pain is understood.
No longer thought of as perfect,
No longer thought of as superior.
Others watch from their bush,
all hanging from one stem.
It is their common link,
it is what holds them together.
Now the bleeding heart
is off of them stem,
forgotten on the ground.
No common link
is shared anymore.
Left there to stay until found,
when it can be ripped apart again.
Pick Your Flowers
Each person asks
at least once in a lifetime,
what flower am I?
Am I the tulip?
Opening up just enough to show
my inner beauty
to all?
Am I the rose?
Growing among many others
but still beautiful,
still special,
in my own way?
Am I the daisy?
Is it that no one knows my true being?
Do my white petals only hide
who I truly am?
Is it my sun inside,
that is really me?
Am I the bearded iris?
Manly enough on the outside,
yet still beautiful and sensitive
on the inside?
We are more than one flower,
but not every single one.
We are all a bouquet of
sensitivity...
beauty...
kindness...
We are all flowers,
each one special
and unique.
But what is in your bouquet?
Each one is different...
pick your flowers.
at least once in a lifetime,
what flower am I?
Am I the tulip?
Opening up just enough to show
my inner beauty
to all?
Am I the rose?
Growing among many others
but still beautiful,
still special,
in my own way?
Am I the daisy?
Is it that no one knows my true being?
Do my white petals only hide
who I truly am?
Is it my sun inside,
that is really me?
Am I the bearded iris?
Manly enough on the outside,
yet still beautiful and sensitive
on the inside?
We are more than one flower,
but not every single one.
We are all a bouquet of
sensitivity...
beauty...
kindness...
We are all flowers,
each one special
and unique.
But what is in your bouquet?
Each one is different...
pick your flowers.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Goodbye
You hide in fear,
what will I think of you?
A coward?
A fiend?
Why try to tell me,
And remove your feelings?
Insecurity is a blessing on my behalf,
but on yours it is a curse.
I am no longer afraid,
Never again will I be.
Your pathetic excuses
are no longer my burden.
Your manipulative ways
will never again
pull me down to your level
what will I think of you?
A coward?
A fiend?
Why try to tell me,
And remove your feelings?
Insecurity is a blessing on my behalf,
but on yours it is a curse.
I am no longer afraid,
Never again will I be.
Your pathetic excuses
are no longer my burden.
Your manipulative ways
will never again
pull me down to your level
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