by Penny Lea
I lived in Germany during the Nazi holocaust.I  considered my-self a Christian.  I attended Church since I was a small boy.  We had heard the stories of what was happening to the Jews, but like most people today in this country, we tried to distance ourselves from the reality of what was really taking place.  What could anyone do to stop it?

"A railroad track ran behind our small church, and each Sunday morning we would hear the whistle from the distance and then the clacking of the wheels moving over the track.  We became disturbed when one Sunday we noticed cries coming from the train as it passed by. We grimly realized that the train was carry-ing Jews.  They were like cattle in those cars!

"Week after week that train whistle would blow. We would dread to hear the sound of those old wheels because we knew that the Jews would begin to cry to us as they passed our church. It was so terribly disturbing!  We could do nothing to help these poor miserable people, yet their screams tormented us. We knew exactly at what time that whistle would blow, and we decided the only way to keep from being so disturbed by the cries was to start singing our hymns.  By the time the train came rumbling past the church yard, we were singing at the top of our voices.  If some of the screams reached our ears, we'd just sing a little louder until we could hear them no more. Years passed and no one talks about it much anymore, but I still hear that train whistle in my sleep.  I can still hear them crying out for help.  G-d forgive all of us who called ourselves Christians, yet did nothing to intervene."
by Penny Lea
I found myself in anger, I cried out in despair. I prayed, "L-rd let them hear me!  Let just one person care!" I raised my voice to heaven as the train kept moving on, as we passed behind the church yard!  I could hear the worship songs.  I cried out all the louder to the Christians there inside, but they raised the chorus louder not hearing me outside.  I knew they heard the whistle and the clacking of the tracks. They knew that I was going to die and still they turned their backs.  I said, "Father in heaven how can your people be  so very hard of hearing to the cry of one like me? I shouted, "Please have mercy!  Just a prayer before I die!" But they sang a little louder to the Holy One on High.  They raised their hands to Heaven but the blood was dripping down.  The blood of all the innocent their voices tried to drown. They have devo-tions daily, they function in My Name, and they never even realized it was I upon that train.
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The following story entitled "Sing A Little Louder", told by an old weeping "Christian" man, holds a very important message for
us today.  May its words ring loud and clear, reminding all Christians everywhere the consequences of our [physical and spiritual] uninvolvement.  May our L-rd  G-d Almighty Who is Israel's Savior, Redeemer, and King,  forgive us our sins, and deliver us from that cursed spirit of indifference.  May the following poem entitled
"The Passenger" also help us to clearly see this truth. -- Eva

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Author can be contacted at the following address:
Penny Lea - PO Box 3226 - Boone, NC  38607 - Tel:  828-265-2663