A Yom Hashoah story for younger children

“THE TATTOOED TORAH” by Marvell Ginsburg



This is the story of a little tattooed Torah. It was always little but not always tattooed. Here is how it became tattooed. Many, many years ago, before you were born, when your grandparents were children, Little Torah lived in a handsome, wooden Aron Kodesh that had a velvet, purple parochet. It was in an old, beautiful synagogue in the city of Brno in Czechoslovakia. In the Aron Kodesh, with Little Torah, were many big Torahs wearing soft, velvet mantles of scarlet, purple, and blue, Little Torah was very proud to be there with them. Some big Torahs had silver crowns. Little Torah thought they looked like kings and queens. One day everything changed. Little Torah shivered. It heard a different kind of marching sound. It was not the sound of Jewish people marching into synagogue on Shabbat. It was not the sound of Jewish people marching into synagogue on a holiday. It was not the sound of children and grown-ups marching in the Simchat Torah procession. It was loud, mean marching, with loud, mean talk. Nazi soldiers were marching into Little Torah's town - into Brno! Their evil leader, Hitler, had started a war against the whole world. They marched into the synagogue. They ripped open the parochet. They pulled down the big Torahs. They threw off the silver crowns and jingling bells. Then they grabbed Little Torah. They didn't hug and kiss Little Torah. They didn't hold it gently in their arms and march happily and sing Hebrew songs. They were rough. They threw Little Torah on a pile of Torahs in the back of a dark truck. Little Torah cried. Many hours later, the truck stopped in the city of Prague. The Nazi soldiers opened the back of the truck. They took all the Torahs into a large warehouse where other Torahs from all over Czechoslovakia were stored. "We're getting rid of the Jews, forever," they jeered. "But we’ll keep their Torahs for souvenirs. Ha, Ha! We'll tattoo a number on each one. And we'll put the numbers in our record book so we'll know from which town they came." Little Torah was very angry. "They have no right to tattoo a Torah! A Torah is the most precious possession of the Jewish people and the whole world!" Day after day, Little Torah heard the Nazi soldiers march into the warehouse, saying mean things and bringing in fresh truckloads of Torahs. Day after day, numbers were tattooed on the Torahs and swastika tags were wired onto them. Day after day, numbers were put in the record book. Then it was a new day and the war was over. Friendly soldiers, called the Allied Forces, had won the war against the Nazis. The Nazis were gone from Brno. They were gone from Prague. But Little Torah still remained in the warehouse, because there were no Jews left in Brno to take Little Torah home. Many years after the war ended, a Jewish man named Arthur Weil was asked by his children's Hebrew school principal to find a small Torah light enough for young children to hold during services. After searching and asking where he could find such a Torah, Mr. Weil finally went to Prague. There, he was taken to the warehouse where all the Torahs from the synagogues all over Czechoslovakia had been stored by the Nazis. In the warehouse in front of him were hundreds of Torahs on rough wooden shelves - 1,500 of them. Mr Weil then flew to London where he went to Westminster Synagogue. He told the people abut the Torahs in the warehouse. "We must save those Torahs," he told them. The people shouted, "Yes, yes. We must save the Torahs!" And they did. They all gave money until they had enough to put all 1,500 Torahs on airplanes and fly them to London to be cleaned and repaired - all 1,500 including Little Torah. That's when Mr. Weil discovered and chose Little Torah. Now, again, Little Torah began to feel proud. "Oh, what a wonderful Torah," exclaimed Mrs Weil when she saw it. "It is just the right size for the children to hold. They will love it." "Yes," agreed Mr Weil. "Now we must build a special Aron Kodesh and a special parochet, the right size for our little Torah." And that's just what they did. When the new Aron Kodesh and parochet were finished, the school principal invited all the children, their parents, grandparents, and teachers to a special service in honour of their new little Torah. Little Torah shivered with joy as it was taken from the ark and everyone marched in the procession. Little Torah was bursting with pride. What a wonderful, wonderful day - even better than a Bar Mitzvah.