Josephine Turner, Westcliff High School for Girls

When I remember my visit to Auschwitz, what stands out in my mind is the candles. Before we left the camp, we were each given a candle; the night sky was almost black, and the cold cut right through us. A couple of people had their candles lit and were setting others’ alight, then moving over to the railway and placing them there. The flames illuminated the darkness a surprising amount, shining out as bright points of yellow-gold.

I held my candle in gloved hands and looked out into Birkenau. It was dark and desolate, and indescribably lonely. At night here, I was sure it would be easy to feel as though you were already dead.

I looked around me, at the people crowding round the tracks, at the lights they were setting down in the heart of the darkness. I joined them, laid mine down, and stood and watched it for a moment. Twice, the wind made it gutter, and the flame disappeared, and I thought it had gone out. But it reappeared, and as I watched its little light flickering in the night, against the cold and the pain, it seemed to me to represent all hope, all life. In this place where people had lived and died and suffered more than anyone can imagine, we were setting down candles in respect, in lament, in love, and above all in hope for the future. We were here, setting the night aflame. Even if our tiny candles were swallowed up by the darkness of the huge camp, even if they’d go out eventually, the beauty of this moment amongst so much desolation wouldn’t fade. These candles would burn in our hearts, always.

I felt, above all, a determination I had never known before, that grew as we walked back past barbed wire and barracks, through the snow and dark mist to the watchtower and the coach beyond. A determination never to forget, never to surrender to history’s repetition, never to hate. That feeling is what I took from the visit: that despite despair, hope can prevail, because the future is ours to shape. This is a feeling I hope and believe that we can all spread, because once we take on board the sufferings of the past, by remembering them always, we alone have the power to prevent them recurring.