During the Holocaust, when so many of the curses in the Torah sadly came to fruition and the worst in humanity was brought to the fore, a Yid found himself in one of the camps, and he came upon one solitary page from a siddur. He was so overjoyed by this treasure that he would always grasp it close to his heart—his vehicle of connection with the Ribbono shel Olam from the pits of Gehinnom.
He made sure to keep it close to his heart wherever he went in the camps, and every time he experienced a difficult moment, he would caress the page under his shirt. This was his lifeline.... But one day, as the inmates were lined up at appel to be counted, a breeze came and lifted his shirt. The Nazi noticed it, and began to beat him mercilessly and sadistically, until he crumpled to the ground in a bloody heap, barely alive.
As his fellow Yidden came to lift him up from the ground, they could hear him murmuring. Leaning in, they could hear him whisper, “But it was worth it.”
