07/26/2025
The Song They Whispered Before Death — Lublin, Poland, 1942
They did not scream.
As the mothers were led toward the gas chambers at Majdanek, they held their children close and each other closer. Witnesses recalled the quietest resistance—a lullaby, trembling and soft, sung in Yiddish. A cradle song, once meant to soothe restless babies to sleep, now offered comfort as they walked into smoke and silence.
Their voices were hushed but steady, a chorus of defiant tenderness in the face of unspeakable horror.
One guard, years later, reportedly said:
“Their song haunted me more than any silence ever could.”
The world did not hear them that day.
But we can choose to listen now.
