A Sparrow in Terezin

Sparrows soar on high; they are light and agile. They fly through the clouds unafraid and travel where the skeleton could never go. That is strength on little wings. And they fly about inside the tower, waiting for the sun to go down so they can open the windows and escape out into the night sky.” “And what do they do when they come out?” “They rain tiny blessings down on the Jews of Prague while we all are asleep. They shine light in the darkness.

Of the 15,000 children who are believed to have passed through the walls of Terezin, fewer than 100 ultimately survived the Holocaust. I pray, with so many of you, that we would never forget. For every one of those little sparrows who fell, God’s hands were open.

all of time is set to a clock—God’s clock. We’re given so much of it from sunrise to sunset each day.

I meant peace. That’s what it feels like. God’s peace showering down on us. And it’s not because we haven’t seen storms. I think it’s because he gave us the strength to weather them—no matter what.

His words held depth, but not enough to make her forget the desire to do something more than just leave the hospital alive. All she could think of now was the pain of running away. She'd left her family, left Prague behind out of fear. And still war had chased her to an ARP shelter in the heart of London. How could she run again? Something mattered in standing up to fight.

... the last year had seen women and children carrying [gas] masks about as they carried a handbag or a skipping rope.

You're thinking I'm a changed man. That God has changed me. And that regardless of the fact that my father has left so much damage in his wake, I shouldn't hate him for it. You're telling me to think to the future ... That I shouldn't hold bitterness against the father who left ... And you hope that i can finally forgive him, which is something I've never quite been able to do." "Goodness," Sera beamed back at him. "I thought all that? I'm much wiser than I give myself credit for.