Tragedy In Eli Wiesel's Night

Every life knows tragedy. While some tragedies may be greater than others, it is tragedy all the same. In his book Night, Elis Wiesel brings light to one of the most tragic events in our history The Holocaust. Wiesel describes his torturous treatment in the concentration camps, a place which stole everything from him: his home, his family, and even his faith in God. After seeing people tortured, gassed, and burned, Wiesel states, “my eyes had opened and I was alone, terribly alone in the world without God, without man. Without love or mercy. I was nothing but ashes now, but I felt myself to be stronger than this Almighty to whom my life had been bound for so long. In the midst of these men assembled for prayer, I felt like an observer, a stranger”
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Lilies were her favorite. That’s where your name came from.”
“Mimi named me?”
“Yes, your mother loved the name because it connected the two people most important in her life.” I looked back out the window. I wanted to run to her and hug her, but I was terrified that I would remind her of Mimi and make her cry again.
“Why don’t you go play? I’ll go take care of your mom.” I obediently went to my room to dress my dolls, but when I heard my mother’s quiet sobs I ran to the door. Peaking through the door, I saw my father helping my mother up the stairs and back behind the locked door. My father was right. It took time- years- for my mother to recover. However, overtime she regained her strength and conquered her sadness. She even found her smile again. It was a few weeks before Christmas and were decorating the Christmas tree. Picking out a silver rattle from the box of decorations, I read the engraving “For Lily’s first Christmas. Love, Mimi”. I quickly tried to hide the ornament but my mother saw. “Lily what’s that one?” After reluctantly handing it to her, I hid my eyes not wanting to see her cry, but I didn’t hear anything. Peaking through the hands covering my eyes I saw my mother starring at the engraving and
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At the time I felt betrayed by God for making my mother go through such hell. I believed he either did not exist or that he did not care about us. My mother’s reaction to my grandmother’s death ended my faith in God, but then she recovered and I was unsure what to believe. Was there a God? Did he give my mother the strength to get better or did he abandon her in her greatest time of need? I am still unsure of the truth, and I may never know. For now, I will make peace with the fact that my mother is well whether God is responsible or