This afternoon I finished reading Night by Elie Wiesel in preparation for this week’s book club meeting.
I’ve read other books about the Holocaust, but this is the first time I’ve read Night.
Wow.
All I can think, now, is, who am I to deserve to be happy? Why am I able to feel contentment in my own home with the sweet smell of caramel cookies wafting through the air? What did I do to deserve such a good life, free to be lived in accordance with my own choices?
This world, this life, is very unfair.
