ON THE DEATH OF ELIE WIESEL

PALM TREES AT NIGHT

I wept when I prayed – because of something inside me that felt the need for tears.

Why did I pray? A strange question. Why did I live? Why did I breathe?
I believed I would be drawn into eternity, into that time where question and answer would become one. 

Elie Wiesel, as a young man, before Night

One Reply to “ON THE DEATH OF ELIE WIESEL”

  1. Thank you, Scott and Heather. In a wonderful way this is a providential entrance into the feast of St Mary Magdalene tomorrow. P

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