Night

In preparation for my visit to Buchenwald in April, I am currently reading Elie Wiesel's Night. I consumed a good 50 pages last evening before bed; nothing too terribly graphic, but disturbing scenes nonetheless.

I knew this wasn't a good idea, and I was right. I woke up this morning in somewhat of a panic. I had awful dreams that I was being hunted, and had gone into hiding under a pile of blankets and cushions. It was very real, and I felt distress as my coating was stripped away and I was found.

No such account of the Holocaust has ever hit home as hard as Wiesel's, as he struggled through days upon weeks of bread and soup, beatings and watching inmates, friends, and family move on.

Wiesel was at Buchenwald for some time during the War. It was a tragedy, however I feel privileged to have the opportunity to see where he and others contended for their lives.

I'm hoping that it is possible, to prepare myself for this experience.