"At 12 years old, Glucksman was a student at a school in Chrzanow, Poland, when Nazi soldiers invaded his school and rounded up the Jewish children. The year was 1940. The students were loaded onto trucks and taken away. “They told us we would be back with our parents in the evening. That evening never came,” he said. The children slept outside and ate soup that consisted of slivers of potato floating in warm water. He and the others were taken to Gross Rosen concentration camp where he was forced into labor and later transferred to Dachau concentration camp." ~New Haven Register, Conn. March 26, 2009

This being the Christmas season filled with twinkling lights and holly, jolly music, 
makes today's post a huge dichotomy.
The complete opposite of the "Love Comes Down at Christmas" 
is the extreme hate that caused everything related to the concentration camps.
Looking back through these photos of our morning…

spent walking the same path…

of those prisoners initially 'employed' as forced laborers in the nearby granite quarry, 
our group became increasingly quite and reflective…
 as the path led us under the gateway bearing the phrase...  
"Arbeit Macht Frei"...
Work Makes You Free.

A disgusting attempt at motivation creating a sense of hope lasting but a breath or two, 
before the fences came into view I am sure.

 Followed by the innocently named Roll-Call Square 
added during the later years at Gross-Rosen.
A camp where...

and thousands of others lived with memories I cannot fathom.

As we walked through what remained of original buildings on the grounds,

 a clearer picture of daily life became real.

Over the years, memorials have been erected…

and stand on the grounds…

as part of the Gross-Rosen Museum...

which includes a video explaining further,

 the history of…

and its connection to other concentration camps.

While feeding my curiosity for this post, 
I discovered the Holocaust Encyclopedia and its user friendly database, 
giving me a broader view of the millions of people affected.

After leaving the camp,
I am still haunted by these beautiful yet horrifying stained glass pieces. 

located inside the museum.

While a few yards away…

a row of rose bushes has been planted,
lining the walk towards the camp itself.
A symbol of love…
 and mourning…
perhaps healing.

Now, that's closer to the Christmas spirit... 
found tangled up with the holly, jolly, 
like that string of Christmas lights I have waiting for me in Texas.

Happy Thursday.