My eyes were first opened to the horrors of The Holocaust through the wonderful daily writings of Anne Frank. I have loved this young girl since my youth, when I first read her Diary. Her short life is engraved in my soul. Anne’s words in her diary, which she called “Kitty,” allow people, both young and old, to identify with her feelings of fear, confusion and hope, and reflect on her short life as well as that of the many other Jewish children who perished during The Holocaust.

At 12 year’s old back in 1972, I vividly remember sitting in the hall at Sarah Metcalf’s Comprehensive school watching a black and white film on big old spools of the story of Anne Frank.  We had got two thirds through the film, of which I was mesmerised by, when the school bell for going home started to ring.  Thankfully, the teacher allowed those of us who wanted to remain behind to stay and watch the film to the end.  I quickly then went to the local library to borrow the Anne Frank diary, and I must have read it over and over.

In the diary there are certain passages that describe Anne’s desire to become a writer and the need she felt to record her experiences for posterity. Sadly, she didn’t survive the war; yet her story has lived on. And in many ways, I have ‘heard her voice’ through the many survivors I have spoken to on my visits with my work for Christian Friends of Israel. Indeed, to spend a few years with one survivor, Helen, and to hear Helen speak of knowing Anne Frank in the camps was such a privilege and caused me to realise that Anne’s wish, for her writings to be known, had not been ‘just a dream’. Anne does indeed, live on.

Although millions were silenced by The Holocaust, the words of Anne Frank continue to educate generations about the tragic events of a time that should never be forgotten. In fact, her Diary is available in 66 languages, and more than 40 million copies have been sold worldwide. Anne’s Diary is important in many ways: historians often regard her Diary as an important historical document of the period, and teachers use Anne’s words to talk about feelings, about growing up and family relationships because Anne wrote about all of these things.

Anne’s Diary is still an inspiration to people today because even though she knew what was happening to her Jewish friends and neighbours, and though she was trapped in her hiding place, Anne always believed in the true goodness of people. The words and ideals of this young girl remind me that we need to respect each other and appreciate and understand each other’s differences.

On the 21st July 1944, Anne wrote, “It’s difficult in times like these; ideals, dreams and cherished hopes rise within us, only to be crushed by grim reality. It’s a wonder I haven’t abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart.” 

In many ways, I believe that God moved my heart towards this subject from when I was 12 years old – even though, odd is it may sound – I didn’t actually believe there was a God then!

However, other areas have influenced my direction and journey too. 

One such area was a confirmation on one of my many visits whilst working in Israel in November 2013. 

I decided on my ‘day-off’ to visit the Children’s Memorial section at Jerusalem’s Yad Vashem (Holocaust Memorial Museum).  I have been many times before, however, as I was with two colleagues, we decided on a re-visit.  The words "Yad Vashem" by the way are from Isaiah 56:5, where it refers to giving them a memorial and a name.  “Even unto them will I give in My house and within My walls a monument and a memorial better than sons and daughters; I will give them an everlasting memorial, that shall not be cut off.” So literally Yad Veshem means, “a monument and a name”.

The smaller section of Yad Hashem’s museum is the Children’s Memorial which remembers the one and a half million children murdered in the Holocaust. As one walks through this remembrance museum, which is hollowed out from an underground cavern, the Memorial is a haunting and yet beautiful tribute.  To the left, just beyond the entrance, the walkway opens into an area devoted to displaying large images of children, those whose lives had been taken with so little regard during the Shoah.  Even at this stage, I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I walked in silence trying to take in the magnitude of so much innocence lost. 

As I entered in, I decided to record the haunting music that greats the visitor at the entrance.  However, minutes later, whilst my eyes were getting accustomed to the darkness in a room lined in mirrors and lit by a single candle, my heart seemed to stand still at one name.  I became breathless, and dizziness overwhelmed me.  As I was looking at what appears to be beautiful pinpoints of light that shine bright in the dark, I seemed to lose my footing and grabbed hold of the railing along the walkway.  But as I looked up, overwhelmed by the poignant depiction of the sheer magnitude of this tragedy, I listened as one name after another was read out.  Could it have been co-incidence?  Could it have been God’s timing?  For whilst I stood there recording the moment on my iPad, the lady reads out the children’s’ names, and at the 12th name she stated: “Baruch Soakell”, aged 6, Poland.