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Children in the Holocaust
Children in the Holocaust
Children in the Holocaust
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Thursday, Hetty got put on the left side which was the unhealthy side. When the SS had put her on the left of the two groups she froze. She didn’t know what to do, but one of the men from the SS threatened her so she ran,avoiding a bullet to the head. She was trying to figure out what to do to avoid death and because she was only eleven she was able to easily hide behind people that were taller than her and walk to the other group, the healthy group. Hetty thought that they would find her so, even though she had no hope left in her body, she prayed to God. Making a quick decision to see if it was safer to hide in the back or middle of the healthy group, she made her way to get to the middle where she felt safest. Hetty d’Ancona whispered “I
On their way to the village they are stopped by Nazi soldiers who says they must come with them to be relocated. Hannah is the only one who knows what is actually about to happen. She tries to explain why they must not go with the soldiers but the adults explain that they have no choice. They are loaded in trucks and drove off to a train station where they are gathered into cars with barely any room to breathe. The ride on the train lasts for days and several children and infants do not live
Miles opened his door and got out of the car. The Bonewoman, insane with fear, and resting her rat gun on the sill of the upstairs window, took aim and fired a .22 bullet that entered his skull an inch above the left eye. She had vowed to herself as she had watched the singing, chicken-killing soldiers drive away in their jeeps and trucks that she would murder the next man who set foot in her yard. Into the mud beside the yellow Mustang, Miles fell backward, dying. (Page 275)
Not understanding what the woman was doing, Sybil watched intensely, as the woman talked to a man. It almost seemed they were having a heated conversation to one another. Suddenly, he rose a hand and struck her across the face. Sybil gasped and a sudden photo of one of her foster homes flashed back into her mind.
This fall, two seniors at Acton Boxborough committed suicide, and they affected me greatly. Not only do I consider myself empathetic but I knew both of the boys. The first, Matt, was a friend of mine. We met in fifth grade when we were put on the same recreational basketball team and continued our friendship into high school. He was in my English class and I remember Wednesday was the day after he killed himself and rumors began to spread. Even once I got into my English class and he was not there I assumed he was out and it was a dumb rumor. My day continued but in one of my electives his girlfriend asked if she could talk to me and that is when I got the news. Immediately I was in disbelief and thought he was stronger than that he would have stayed to
She told the newsroom, “I gave them everything I could gather, from the parajumper unit- 18 of them- who’d ended up sleeping on a yacht, to the K-9 rescue worker who’d driven through the night, 15 hours from Halifax, Nova Scotia, with his body-sniffing dog” (Finkelstein, p. 6). With this, Finkelstein gave a complete and comprehensive recount of the day’s events with context that was relevant to the situation. To conclude the text, Finkelstein states, “It was early Thursday. And though more than 40 hours had passed since I first hopped on my bicycle, the terrible story had just begun” (Finkelstein, p. 6). This further demonstrates Finkelstein’s true dedication as a reporter to do what is morally correct; she went out of her way to go get the news that the people needed. The people needed the truth, and Finkelstein went out of her way to achieve this goal, and exhibit how she partakes in the Social Responsibility
Prior to the hospital, Deborah only considered the gods and goddesses existing in Yr, to be her friends, as she would turn to them during times of loneliness or rejection. Throughout the time spent in the hospital, Deborah slowly opened up to Dr. Fried, even nicknaming her ‘Furii’, based upon the power her insight held. During her treatment sessions with Dr. Fried, Deborah familiarizes a feeling which she has become immune too over the years, a feeling of love. Due to the empathy displayed by famous psychiatrist Dr. Fried, the feeling of being the sick, crazy girl ultimately distinguishes during their sessions, resulting in a positive impact along Deborah’s road to recovery, "She liked working with patients. Their very illness made them examine their sanity as few 'sane ' people could. Kept from loving, sharing, and simple communication, they often hungered for it with a purity of passion that she saw as beautiful." (Greenberg, 19). When Dr. Royson supply’s for Dr. Fried, it becomes evident that the trust Dr. Fried built within her relationship with Deborah, and her genuine desire to help the protagonist, assisted the uphill battle, as without the compassion and belief Dr. Royson failed to provide, Deborah fell back down the hill. In conclusion, the honest efforts of the
Torey always wondered how and where Sheila was, so just before her 14th birthday, Torey located Sheila and went to see her. She was living in a small house with her father who had supposedly gave up alcohol and drugs. Their reunion was akward for both of them and not quite what Torey had been expecting. Torey had been assuming that Sheila would be just like she had left her seven years ago. However, instead she had wild clothing and blazing yellow straggly hair. After the first visit, Torey made frequent visits to see Sheila in hopes that they could rebuild their friendship. They went to the movies, shopping, out to dinner, and many other things like that. When summer began, Torey asked her if she'd like to help out in a summer school program with herself, her friend Jeff, and a teaching aide, Miriam. This worked out well. She was able to work with children with many various disabilities. She befriended a young boy who had been adopted from Columbia. He didn't talk and was...
...f the bad that is going on in her real life, so she would have a happy place to live. With the collapse of her happy place her defense was gone and she had no protection from her insanity anymore. This caused all of her blocked out thoughts to swarm her mind and turn her completely insane. When the doctor found her, he tried to go in and help her. When the doctor finally got in he fainted because he had made so many positive changes with her and was utterly distressed when he found out that it was all for naught. This woman had made a safety net within her mind so that she would not have to deal with the reality of being in an insane asylum, but in the end everything failed and it seems that what she had been protecting herself from finally conquered her. She was then forced to succumb to her breakdown and realize that she was in the insane asylum for the long run.
They struggle to keep them safe, to seek for help, but nobody believes them. I felt how forlorn they are. I felt their pain as I carved their story. My own heart splinted apart to make the decision for her to do the immoral things to save her sister.
Everyday, there are many horrid acts that happen in our world in the name of religion. One of the most infamous of these cases of martyrdom in the postmodern world is Jonestown. Jonestown was the mass suicide of more than 900 members of the Peoples Temple cult in 1978. It is recalled today for its use of Kool-Aid in the mass suicide, the members actually drank the beverage mixed with cyanide. With it also being memorable for its involvement of mind control and dictatorship, Jonestown goes down as one of the most horrid events of postmodern society.
It had been a cold, snowy day, just a few days after Thanksgiving. My grandmother became immensely ill and unable to care for herself. We knew she had health problems but her sudden turn for the worst was so unexpected and therefore we weren’t prepared for the decisions that had to be made and the guilt we would feel. Where would grandma live? Would she be taken care of? So many concerns floated around. A solution was finally found and one that was believed to be the best or so we thought.
Diane was a patient of Dr. Timothy Quill, who was diagnosed with acute myelomonocytic leukemia. Diane overcame alcoholism and had vaginal cancer in her youth. She had been under his care for a period of 8 years, during which an intimate doctor-patient bond had been established. It was Dr. Quill’s observation that “she was an incredibly clear, at times brutally honest, thinker and communicator.” This observation became especially cogent after Diane heard of her diagnosis. Dr. Quill informed her of the diagnosis, and of the possible treatments. This series of treatments entailed multiple chemotherapy sessions, followed by a bone marrow transplant, accompanied by an array of ancillary treatments. At the end of this series of treatments, the survival rate was 25%, and it was further complicated in Diane’s case by the absence of a closely matched bone-marrow donor. Diane chose not to receive treatment, desiring to spend whatever time she had left outside of the hospital. Dr. Quill met with her several times to ensure that she didn’t change her mind, and he had Diane meet with a psychologist with whom she had met before. Then Diane complicated the case by informing Dr. Quill that she be able to control the time of her death, avoiding the loss of dignity and discomfort which would precede her death. Dr. Quinn informed her of the Hemlock Society, and shortly afterwards, Diane called Dr. Quinn with a request for barbiturates, complaining of insomnia. Dr. Quinn gave her the prescription and informed her how to use them to sleep, and the amount necessary to commit suicide. Diane called all of her friends to say goodbye, including Dr. Quinn, and took her life two days after they met.
Her grandmother looked at her knowingly and told her it was because she wanted to leave."You mean abandon your family?" the granddaughter asked, and in turn the answer was yes. She had wanted to leave and never come back. Of course this was very shocking, this secret that had been kept so many years. The grandmother she had known and loved so long had actually wanted to abandon her family and leave forever. She was young and pretty, full of her own dreams and aspirations, and found herself with four children and a husband. Feeling stuck and restless in a family where she was constantly expected to do more and more, she no doubt felt overwhelmed. So, the granddaughter challenged, she left her husband and children and ran away to New York. "I had left him once before," her grandmother explained, "but he found me. I came back home, but on the condition that he never follow me anywhere again. I told him the next time I would not return." At this point things began to fall into place as her grandmother relealed her secret, hidden awa for so long. Her going away to New York had actually been her own husband 's idea. He knew the sickness in her heart was one not physical. He gave her money and made all the arrangments for her to leave and not worry about anything. All she had to do was leave, no obligations. That year, her granmother explained, she lived. Really lived. So the question the granddaughter next asked, was what had made her come back. The answer brings tears to her eyes as her grandmother explains it was because she loved her husband and missed her children, and discovered a newfound appreciation for the sacrifice her grandfather had made to give an entire year of complete freedom to his wife, never knowing if she would return. Then she whispers softly to her granddaughter, "and in time, the husband
Often times when I heard the word "suicidal" I was curiously caused the person to do it. Growing up, I heard that people decided to commit suicide was because they "wanted attention, they wanted the easy way out, they were weak, they couldn't handle life, etc." Personally, I have significant people in my life that have felt like they wanted to commit suicide. So, this topic honestly is a difficult, yet, emotional one to discuss.
Have you ever been scared for the safety of a complete stranger? Have you changed somebody’s outlook on life just by being a Good Samaritan? Well, I have. It was a late Thursday night and I was in a bad part of town informally known as “The Knob.” I had been at a friend's house when we decided to leave to find somewhere to eat. On the way, my friend got a call from his mom telling him he had to be home. His house wasn’t really out of the way. As I pulled down Belle Avenue, towards his house, another friend of mine shouts out “Hey, pull over that guy just knocked that girl out” I instantly questioned this absurd accusation. “What? You’re joking.” As I turned around I noticed that he certainly wasn’t as I saw a middle-aged lady facedown on the pavement. Without hesitation I parked the car and we all ran over to see what was going on. You could see in the distance a man in an orange hooded jacket fleeing the scene. My friend attempted to wake this lady up. She was out cold. At this point each one of us had no idea what we should do. Obviously, the first thing we should have done was call the police, but let me remind you this was a bad part of town and didn’t know if we would be the next. Tommy, my friend, the nearest house and knocked on the door. A trashy looking man answered the door. After being informed that there was an unconscious lady in front of his house he scurried to her aid. The man then realized it was a good friend of his. Jane was her name. You could sense his anger and concern for this lady. He began to frantically ask questions. Who, what, when, where, why, how and every other sort of interrogation question was thrown our way. We described her assailant and which way he went. Evidently it was her boyfriend. At this ...