It has been two weeks since I heard a snippet of his story on NPR and I cannot get the word picture he painted out of my mind.
A holocaust survivor from Poland was telling his story on NPR as my husband and I ran errands.
In a voice that was both tremulous and tinged with steel, he described his wedding day. He had married his bride in a church lit only with one candle as the bombs fell on their city.
It was at that point that Doug and I arrived at our destination and we exited the car, never to hear the rest of his story.
How I wish I had listened to the program in its entirety! I never even got his name.
In the weeks since, the image of that wedding has continually played on the edges of my mind. How old were they? How did they meet? What made them get married at such a perilous time? How many guests, if any, were in attendance? How long did their marriage last?
Imagine the intense emotion of such a wedding day.
Love and and joy mixed with fear? Perhaps tears of both happiness at having found love and sadness at the reality of war that threatened to take it all away in a heartbeat?
Most of all, I love the glorious defiance of that moment in time.
Amidst the ravages of a world torn by the ugliness of war, love was triumphing in that church.
The light of that single candle was piercing the darkness.
No matter how brutal and awful this world can be, love is always stronger than hate.
Set me like a seal upon your heart…for love is a as strong as death…it flashes fire, a most vehement flame, the very flame of the Lord. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. —Song of Songs 8:6-7
Even the smallest light pierces and overcomes the darkness.
Hope is more powerful than despair.
Bravery conquers fear.
Love always wins.