The Butterfly Story

The Butterfly Story

Let me tell you a story about a girl who turned into a butterfly.

Once, in a time not unlike our time, Ella and her friends lived a normal life in a normal city. They played in the parks and playgrounds, learned their lessons in school rooms, argued and fought and laughed and joked. Every winter they lit the menorah candles and every spring they had a Passover meal.

Ella loved stories and even when she was thirteen years old, she always asked her Mother to tell her a tale before bed.

Inside you is a city with walls so high that no-one can climb them and walls so thick that no-one can break through them. There is only one gate going into and out from that city, but it is always open. The city is such a wonderful place to live. Everyone smiles and talks to their neighbours; everyone cares for one another and no-one locks their doors for there is no need.

 
One day, a shadow fell over that city. It was as if the sun was blocked out. People grew afraid. They began to lock their doors and instead of talking and sharing news, they whispered words of mistrust and fear. The strangest thing of all was that no-one did anything about it – they just locked the gate up tight and hid behind iron bolts.

There was just one boy, one young man who watched what the grown ups were doing and shouted, “NO! What are you doing? We have to face this thing – we have to find out what has happened to the sun!” But no-one listened to him, because he was just a kid.

On a dark night, he decided enough was enough. He waited until his father was fast asleep and crept out of the house and into he street. He was going to face this problem himself. As he got to the great gate, his heart was pounding in his chest. He took a deep breath in and pulled the iron bolts back and pushed the gate open.

Standing outside the city, its great head blocking out the moon and stars and sun was an enormous monster. It had iron nail teeth and rock fists, flaming eyes and a deep roaring rumble. The boy took a deep breath in and walked towards the monster. One, two, three steps.

Then something very strange began to happen – the monster seemed to be getting smaller and smaller and smaller and smaller and smaller until it was so small the boy could pick it up in his fingers.

“What’s your name?” said the boy.

“Fear,” said the tiny monster.

The boy put the monster in his pocket and went home. By the time he reached the city, the sun was high in the sky pouring its golden light into the streets and houses. In a matter of moments doors were unlocked and people began to smile and chat once more.

There were other times when a shadow fell over that city, that city inside you, but there will always be a brave little boy to remind us that our fears are not as big as we think when we face them with courage.

 
When the story was finished, Ella’s dreams were full of colour and life.

One day, a shadow fell over Ella’s city – a monster made of men with a mouth full of hate and flaming red armbands. When the Nazis arrived, life began to change. The children watched as doors locked and neighbours turned their backs. Some of her friends disappeared overnight and there were whispers that they would never be coming back. Behind her Mother’s smile, Ella saw fear.

What else could Ella do, but face her fear with courage in her heart – it won’t seem so scary soon.

In November 1942, Ella and her friends were told they would be leaving. The Jews were being moved to a ghetto in Terezin. Ella’s mother checked and rechecked their bags – weighing them carefully. Inside were clothes, candles, soap, blankets and some simple tools.

“Why do all the Jews have to leave? What’s a Jew anyway? Who’s fighting the war?” Questions from the small children rang through the streets.

‘How close to I have to get before the monster starts to shrink?’ Ella wondered.

The next morning, Ella stood in a great hall filled with frightened people wearing yellow stars. They queued for hours. They were given numbers. They waited.

Ella and her family were transported to a city called Terezin.

It was a walled city, with one gate leading in and out. Walls too high to climb. Walls too thick to break. It was grey, cold and full of hungry faces and tired eyes. Here and there the monstrous men stood staring, with hard, uncaring eyes.

Ella and the older children were separated from their parents and led to bunkhouses, where hey slept on dirty mattresses and cramped wooden bunks.

‘How close do I have to get before the monster starts to shrink?’ Ella wondered.

“We’ll see you tomorrow darling. We’ll see you tomorrow,” called her mother.

And so began their shadow life in Theresienstadt concentration camp. 

Queuing for food. Always hungry. Always tired. Breaking rocks. Fleas and flies. Illness and dirt. It seemed to Ella that the sun never shone and the stars never gleamed; they had been blocked out by the enormous, towering monster made of men.

In the empty hours of darkness, Ella heard the sobs and sorrows of the grown-ups.

When the children dreamt, their dreams were grey and hungry. When they drew or wrote, their pictures and poems and trapped in the city walls.

“When a new child comes

Everything seems strange to him.

What, on the ground I have to lie?

Eat black potatoes?
No! Not l! I've got to stay?
It's dirty here!
The floor - why, look, it's dirt, I fear!
And I'm supposed to sleep on it? I'll get all dirty!
Here the sound of shouting, cries, And of, so many flies.
Everyone knows flies carry disease. Oooh, something bit me!
Wasn't that a bedbug? Here in Terezin, life is hell
And when I'll go home again, I can't yet tell.
"Teddy" 1943 (http://nonduality.com/terezin8.htm)

 

Then, the teacher arrived. She sat with the children in their bare classroom and opened her suitcase. From inside, all the colours of the rainbow seemed to glow and shine – pencils, pens, paper, charcoal, paints and brushes.

“What do you see on the window sill?” the teacher asked. The children looked at the square, bare window letting in a cold light. Nothing.

“What do you see on the window sill?” the teacher asked. Ella stared at the window. She looked as hard as she could, screwing up her eyes so only a tiny sliver of light got through. Then, suddenly she could see!

“A sparrow!” she cried.

“A vase of flowers!” came another voice.

“A pile of my Mother’s books.”

“A glass of clear, cold water.”

“A cake!”

“I see green hills and blue sky!”

Day after day, they painted and drew. Day afer day, the teacher asked them to look a little closer, to find the wildflower growing from the stone walls and slowly, it seemed as if the sun began to shine once more.

Birdsong

He doesn't know the world at all

Who stays in his nest and doesn't go out.
He doesn't know what birds know best
Nor what I want to sing about,
That the world is full of loveliness.

When dewdrops sparkle in the grass

And earth's awash with morning light,
A blackbird sings upon a bush
To greet the dawning after night.
Then I know how fine it is to live.

Hey, try to open up your heart
To beauty; go to the woods someday
And weave a wreath of memory there.

Than if the tears obscure your way

You'll know how wonderful it is to be alive.

1941 Anonymous (http://nonduality.com/terezin8.html)

As day turned to week, month, year, Ella’s dreams were full of life and colour once more. When they were told by the monster made of men that they would be leaving for another place, far from here, Ella knew she should feel afraid. She heard the grown ups cry and scream and knew she should feel afraid, but for that moment she could not feel afraid – she was dancing with a yellow butterfly, fluterring and flying in the cool, spring air just outside the window. 

Once upon a time there was a little girl who faced a huge, terrifying monster with teeth of broken glass, smoking chimney fingers, a hate filled mouth and a flaming band of red on its arm. She stood outside the city gates and walked towards it. But this monster did not shrink away -  this monster grew and grew. The monster bent down to pick up the tiny girl and crush her in its jaws, but just as he grasped her she transformed into a butterfly, flew past him and away.

 

From a cold, grey prison, a yellow butterfly flew.

The prisoners watched, eyes upraised,

Until it disappeared into white and blue.

They were trapped,

But the butterfly soared free,

Over deserts, mountains, fields and sea.

A golden reminder

From a prison far away.

A yellow butterfly - a child’s song

Bringing us hope today.

COPYRIGHT ABIGAIL PALACHE 10/09/2014
Poems 'Terezin' and 'Birdsong' from the collection of poems found in Terezin.

 

***

The Jewish Music Institute approached me a few weeks ago to create a short, educational workshop based on their beautiful work Drawing Life. This opera devised by Sophie Solomon was inspired by the drawings and poems of the children of Terezin - a concentration camp in the Czech Republic used during WW2 as a 'model ghetto'.

Full of Jewish composers, musicians and artists, this walled city saw an outpouring of creativity as the prisoners waited at the gates of hell. When the Red Cross visited Terezin in 1942, the Nazis installed fake shop fronts, fake water taps and led the visitors on a strict route to show them how well they were treating the Jewish prisoners. In reality Terezin was dark, dirty and 33,000 inmates died of disease, malnutrition and a lack of clean water. 150,000 people were sent to Terezin before being sent to Auschwitz, Dachau or other extermination camps.

There were also 15,000 children who lived in Terezin under the Nazis. They were required to work but also had an education programme to give as evidence to the Danish Red Cross who inspected the camp. Artist and teacher  Friedl Dicker-Brandeis was sent to Terezin and filled two suitcases with over 4,000 drawings by the Terezin children before she died in Auschwitz. It is these surviving drawings and poems that inspired Sophie Solomon to create Drawing Life and in turn inspired me to create the following story to give a glimpse into what life was like for the children of Terezin.