I am going to try and do something with this post that I seemed to have been unable to do with my previous posts for some reason. I am going to try and describe all the raw emotion I felt coursing through myself at the end of this book. I feel as if Wiesel drags you into his innermost core and forces you through these memories with him, and in the end, you do come out a better, more compassionate person. I started the book just as confused as Wiesel was, not knowing exactly what to do or what to expect. Then I was overcome by the things that he saw and went through; terror washed over me like waves crashing through an ocean of shattered hopes, dreams, and love. I was sickened and forced to turn cold at some of the things that I encountered. And then there were moments, the kind Frenchwoman, the brave men being hung, the moment Wiesel chose not to desert his father, that sparked hope in me, hope that is ever-forgiving and ever-given. A hope that will sprout and grow no matter what the conditions, as long as it's allowed to hit the ground.
I think Elie Wiesel may be one of the bravest people I've ever had the honor to get to know, if even just a little. He could have done what so many others did, forget family and friends and become what his surroundings wanting, a creature to use and abuse. Instead he kept his humanity from destroying him through all the pain by finding his center in his father, his only family, and detaching himself from everything else as long as he could afford. He willingly made the choice never to leave his father even though it could mean death for himself. He never took out his anger on those around him, instead he became a totally unbiased human being who could not die by mortal hands because he walked arm-in-arm with Death, and they were friends who never doubted each others' company.
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