Doubly Wronged

The night of broken glass was the
opening salvo in a monstrous solution
that dispelled disbelief, the occasion
when the dire message signed, sealed
and delivered gave warning and nudged
the conscience of the world to grudgingly
permit the transport of children from
Germany, Austria, Czechoslovakia
Poland shipped off to Britain then to
Israel, Australia, Canada, the United
States for haven from certain death at
the very time when doors were being
slammed in the face of Jews desperate
to escape what became the inevitable.
The passage of a lifetime where young
memories lingered on the faces of parents
their voices, their assurances, their
absolute absence from existence yet
haunting those children surviving the
curse of the Holocaust. But wait, on the
cusp of death themselves now their
lifespan ebbing they are assured the
reparations that a different Germany now
proffers, diligent post-war in rescuing
the nation from its atrocious place in
history to make amends. Cash awards
an apology yet nothing can restore lives
stolen and memories laden with sorrow.
The official view that bestowing cash
compensates the vacuum in bereaved
children's lives as brutal as the original
campaign to destroy all Jewish life.