"Guilty!" Thoughts in Relation to My Own Past: Letters to My Son
Together in September of 1987 we had visited scenes from my past, both battlefields and prison camps. There, in Poland, we met the people who had saved my life, after having already suffered horribly themselves through the Nazi period. The encounter reopened the past-my own and that of our whole people. Guilt and shame, both things were there-but also something else, something new: I call it "presence."