๋ ˆ๋ ˆํ”Œ๋ ˆ์ด (์‹ ๋‹น)

์ด ์ฑ…์„ ์ฝ๊ฒ ๋‹ค๊ณ  ๊ฒฐ์‹ฌํ–ˆ์„ ๋•Œ, ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋ฌด์—‡์„ ์ฝ๊ฒŒ ๋ ์ง€ ์ œ๋Œ€๋กœ ์ธ์ง€ํ•˜์ง€ ๋ชปํ–ˆ๋˜ ๊ฒƒ ๊ฐ™๋‹ค. ์ด ์ฑ…์€ ํ™€๋กœ์ฝ”์ŠคํŠธ ์ƒ์กด์ž์˜ ์ด์•ผ๊ธฐ๋‹ค. ์—ญ์‚ฌ์ƒ ๊ฐ€์žฅ ์ž”์ธํ•œ ์ƒํ™ฉ์„ ์ง์ ‘ ๊ฒช๊ณ , ์‚ฌ๋ž‘ํ•˜๋Š” ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์„ ๋ˆˆ์•ž์—์„œ ์žƒ๊ณ  ํ™€๋กœ ์‚ด์•„ ๋Œ์•„์˜จ ํ•œ 10๋Œ€ ์†Œ๋…„์˜ ์ด์•ผ๊ธฐ. ์—˜๋ฆฌ ๋น„์ ค์˜ ๊ธฐ๋ก์€ ๊ณ ํ†ต์„ ๋„˜์–ด์„œ, ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์ดํ•ดํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ๋Š” ๋ฒ”์œ„๋ฅผ ํ›จ์”ฌ ๋ฒ—์–ด๋‚œ ๊ฒƒ์ด๋‹ค. โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹

์ฑ…์˜ ์„œ๋ฌธ์—์„œ ์•„๋ฒ„์ง€๊ฐ€ ๊ตฌํƒ€๋‹นํ•˜๋‹ค๊ฐ€ ์ฃฝ๋Š” ์žฅ๋ฉด์ด ๋‚˜์˜จ๋‹ค(์ด ์ฑ…์€ 800p์ด ๋„˜๋Š” ์ด๋””์‹œ(Yeddish) ์›๋ณธ์„ 100p์œผ๋กœ ์ถ•์•ฝํ•œ ๋ฒˆ์—ญ๋ณธ์ด๋ผ์„œ ๋งŽ์€ ๋ถ€๋ถ„์ด ์ƒ๋žต๋๋‹ค. ์•„๋ฒ„์ง€์˜ ์ฃฝ์Œ ์—ญ์‹œ ์„œ๋ฌธ์—๋งŒ ์–ธ๊ธ‰ํ–ˆ๊ณ  ์ฑ…์—๋Š” ์•„์ฃผ ์งง๊ฒŒ ์„œ์ˆ ๋๋‹ค). ์„œ๋ฌธ๋งŒ ์ฝ๊ณ  ๋ฒŒ์จ๋ถ€ํ„ฐ ๋งˆ์Œ์ด ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ์•„ํŒ ๋‹ค. ์ฑ…์„ ์ฝ๋Š” ๋‚ด๋‚ด ์•„๋ฒ„์ง€์˜ ์ฃฝ์Œ์ด ์–ธ์ œ ์ผ์–ด๋‚ ์ง€ ๋ถˆ์•ˆํ•ดํ•˜๋ฉฐ ํŽ˜์ด์ง€๋ฅผ ๋„˜๊ฒผ๋‹ค. ์•„๋ฒ„์ง€์™€ ์•„๋“ค์€ ์ˆ˜์šฉ์†Œ์—์„œ ์„œ๋กœ ์˜์ง€ํ•˜๊ณ  ์„œ๋กœ๋ฅผ ๋ณด์‚ดํˆ๋‹ค. ์—ฌ๋Ÿฌ ๋ฒˆ ์ฃฝ์Œ์˜ ์œ„๊ธฐ๋ฅผ ๋„˜๊ฒผ๊ณ , ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๋ฐฐ๊ณ ํ”„๊ณ  ์ถฅ๊ณ  ํž˜๋“ค์–ด์„œ ์ฃฝ์Œ์— ๊ฐ€๊นŒ์›Œ์กŒ์„ ๋•Œ๋„ ์„œ๋กœ์—๊ฒŒ ๊ผญ ์‚ด์ž๊ณ  ๋‹ค์งํ•˜๋ฉด์„œ ๋ˆ์งˆ๊ธฐ๊ฒŒ ๋ฒ„ํ…ผ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ๊ฒฐ๊ตญ, ์•„๋ฒ„์ง€๋Š” ์ฃฝ๊ณ  ๋งŒ๋‹ค. ์•„๋ฒ„์ง€๋ฅผ ์žƒ์€ ์•„๋“ค์€ โ€˜ํ•ด๋ฐฉ๊ฐโ€™์„ ๋А๋ผ๊ณ , ์ˆ˜์šฉ์†Œ ํ•ด๋ฐฉ ์งํ›„์—๋Š” ์˜ค์ง โ€˜๋ฐฐ๊ณ ํ””โ€™๋งŒ์„ ๋А๋‚€๋‹คโ€ฆ โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹

์ด ๋น„๊ทน์„ ๊ฒช์€ ์—˜๋ฆฌ ๋น„์ ค๊ณผ ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ์ƒ์กด์ž๋“ค, ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ์—ญ์‚ฌ์˜ ๋น„์šด์„ ์šด ์ข‹๊ฒŒ ๋น„๊ปด๊ฐˆ ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์—ˆ๋˜ ์šฐ๋ฆฌ ์„ธ๋Œ€๊นŒ์ง€: ์šฐ๋ฆฌ๋Š” โ€˜์‚ถโ€™์„ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ์ดํ•ดํ•ด์•ผ ํ• ๊นŒ? ์•„๋งˆ๋„ ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ๋น„๊ทน์ด ๋‹ค์‹œ๋Š” ์ผ์–ด๋‚˜์ง€ ์•Š๋„๋ก ์šฐ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ์ฑ…์ž„์„ ์ ธ์•ผ ํ•œ๋‹ค๋Š” ๊ฒƒ์ผ ํ…๋ฐ, ๊ทธ ์ฑ…์ž„์€ ์„ธ๊ณ„ ์ง€๋„์ž๋“ค๋งŒ์˜ ๊ฒƒ์ด ์•„๋‹ˆ๋ผ, ์šฐ๋ฆฌ ๊ฐ์ž๊ฐ€ ์ผ์ƒ์—์„œ ์‹ค์ฒœํ•ด์•ผ ํ•  ๋ชซ๋„ ์žˆ์„ ๊ฒƒ์ด๋‹ค. ์šฐ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ์กด์žฌํ•จ์œผ๋กœ์จ ๊ฐ€์กฑ, ๊ณต๋™์ฒด, ๊ด€๊ณ„ ๋“ฑ ๊ฐ์ž์˜ ์ž‘์€ ์„ธ์ƒ์ด ์กฐ๊ธˆ ๋” ๋‚˜์€ ๊ณณ์ด ๋˜๋„๋ก ๋งŒ๋“œ๋Š” ์ฑ…์ž„ ๋ง์ด๋‹ค. โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹

ํ™€๋กœ์ฝ”์ŠคํŠธ ํ”ผํ•ด์ž๋“ค์„ ๊ธฐ๋ฆฌ๋ฉฐ..

“Why do you pray?” he asked after a moment.

Why did I pray? Strange question. Why did I live? What did I breathe?

“I don’t know,” I told him, even more troubled and ill at ease. “I don’t know.”

์™œ ์‚ฌ๋Š”๊ฐ€?

๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ์–ด์š”.

SPRING 1944. Splendid news from the Russian Front. There could no longer be any doubt: Germany would be defeated. It was only a matter of time, months or weeks, perhaps.

The trees were in bloom. It was a year like so many others, with its spring, its engagements, its weddings, and its births.

ใ…ก

Optimism soon revived: The Germans will not come this far. THey will stay in Budapest. For strategic reasons, for political reasons…

In less than three days, German Army vehicles made their appearance on our streets.

์•ˆ๋„ค์˜ ์ผ๊ธฐ๋ฅผ ์ฝ์—ˆ์„ ๋•Œ๋Š” ์•ˆ๋„ค์˜ ๊ธ์ •+ํฌ๋ง ๋งˆ์ธ๋“œ๊ฐ€ ๊ฐ•์ ์œผ๋กœ ๋ณด์˜€๋Š”๋ฐ, ์—˜๋ฆฌ ๋น„์ ค์˜ ์ˆ˜๊ธฐ์—๋Š” ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ๋А๋‚Œ์ด๋‹ค. ๊ธ์ •์„ ๋„˜์–ด ๋ถ€์ฃผ์˜๋กœ ๋А๊ปด์ง„๋‹ค. ์•ˆ ์ข‹์€ ์ƒํ™ฉ์„ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ์ข‹๊ฒŒ๋งŒ ๋ด์„œ ๊ฒฐ๊ตญ ์ผ์ฐ ๊ณ ํ–ฅ์„ ๋– ๋‚˜ ์ฒดํฌ๋ฅผ ํ”ผํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์—ˆ์Œ์—๋„ ๋๊นŒ์ง€ ๋‚จ๋‹ค๊ฐ€ ์ˆ˜์šฉ์†Œ๋กœ ๋Œ๋ ค๊ฐ€๊ฒŒ ๋๋‹ค.

Hope.
Optimism.

Those who were selected that day were incorporated into the Sonder-Kommando, the Kommando working in the crematoria. Bรฉla Katz, the son of an important merchant of my town, had arrived in Birkenau with the first transport, one week ahead of us. When he found out that we were there, he succeeded in slipping us a note. He told us that having been chosen because of his strength, he had been forced to place his own father’s body into the furnace.

ใ…ก

But the third rope was still moving: the child, too light, was still breathing…

And so he remained for more than half an hour, lingering between life and death, writhing before our eyes. And we were forced to look at him at close range. He was still alive when I passed him. His tongue was still red, his eyes not yet extinguished.

Behind me, I heard the same nam asking:

“For God’s sake, where is God?”

And from within me, I heard a voice answer:

“Where He is? This is where – hanging here from this gallows…”

That night, the soup tasted of corpses.

Sonderkommando. ๋‚˜์น˜ ์ˆ˜์šฉ์†Œ์˜ ‘ํŠน์ˆ˜ ์ž‘์—…’์„ ๋„๋งก์€ ์œ ๋Œ€์ธ ์ˆ˜๊ฐ์ž๋“ค. ์ด๋“ค์€ ์ฃผ๋กœ ๊ฐ€์Šค์‹ค์—์„œ ์‚ดํ•ด๋œ ์ˆ˜๊ฐ์ž๋“ค์˜ ์‹œ์ฒด๋ฅผ ๋‚˜๋ฅด๊ณ  ํƒœ์šฐ๋Š” ์ž‘์—…์„ ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋“ค ์ค‘ ๊ฐ€์Šค์‹ค์—์„œ ์ฃฝ์€ ๊ฐ€์กฑ์˜ ์‹œ์ฒด๋ฅผ ์ฒ˜๋ฆฌํ•ด์•ผ ํ–ˆ๋˜ ์ด๋“ค๋„ ์žˆ์—ˆ๋‹ค.

์ˆ˜๊ฐ์ž๋“ค์€ ๊ณต๊ฐœ ๊ตํ˜• ๋˜๊ธฐ๋„ ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์„ฑ์ธ์€ ๋ชฉ์„ ๋งค๋‹ฌ๋ฉด ๊ฑฐ์˜ ์ฆ‰์‚ฌํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ, ์–ด๋ฆฐ์•„์ด๋Š” ๋ชธ์ด ๊ฐ€๋ฒผ์›Œ์„œ ๊ธˆ๋ฐฉ ์ฃฝ์ง€ ๋ชปํ•œ๋‹ค. ๋‚˜์น˜ ์ˆ˜์šฉ์†Œ์—์„œ ๋ชฉ๋งค์–ด ์‚ดํ•ด๋œ ์•„์ด๋“ค์€ ๋ช‡์‹ญ๋ถ„ ํ˜น์€ ํ•œ ์‹œ๊ฐ„ ๊ฐ€๊นŒ์ด ๊ณ ํ†ต์„ ๋А๊ปด์•ผ ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. 

AFTER THE WAR, I learned the fate of those who had remained at the infimary. They were, quite simply, liberated by the Russians, two days after the evacuation.

์ด ๋ถ€๋ถ„์—์„œ๋Š” ์—˜๋ฆฌ์™€ ์•„๋ฒ„์ง€๊ฐ€ ์ˆ˜์šฉ์†Œ์— ๋‚จ์„์ง€ ์•„๋‹ˆ๋ฉด ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ์ˆ˜์šฉ์†Œ๋กœ ์˜ฎ๊ธธ์ง€ ์ง์ ‘ ์„ ํƒํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์—ˆ๋˜ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„์„ ๋‹ด์•˜๋‹ค. ๋ถ€์ž๋Š” ๋– ๋‚˜๊ธฐ๋กœ ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์ „์Ÿ ํ›„ ์ „ํ•ด ๋“ค์€ ๋ฐ”๋กœ๋Š”, ์ˆ˜์šฉ์†Œ์— ๋‚จ์€ ์ˆ˜๊ฐ์ž๋“ค์€ ์ € ๋‚ ๋กœ๋ถ€ํ„ฐ 3์ผ ํ›„์— ํ•ด๋ฐฉ์„ ๋งž์ดํ–ˆ๋‹ค๊ณ  ํ•œ๋‹ค. ์—˜๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ์ด ์†Œ์‹์„ ์ „ํ•ด ๋“ค์—ˆ์„ ๋•Œ ์–ผ๋งˆ๋‚˜ ๋งˆ์Œ์ด ์•„ํŒ ์„๊นŒ? ๋ถ€์ž๊ฐ€ ์˜ฎ๊ฒจ๊ฐ„ ์ˆ˜์šฉ์†Œ๋Š” ๋”์šฑ ์ฐธํ˜นํ–ˆ๊ณ  ๊ฒฐ๊ตญ ์•„๋ฒ„์ง€๋Š” ๊ฑฐ๊ธฐ์„œ ์ฃฝ์Œ ๋งž์ดํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋œ๋‹ค.

The snow seemed to me like a very soft, very warm carpet. I fell asleep. I don’t know how long I slept. A few minutes or one hour. When I woke up, a frigid hand was tapping my cheeks. I tried to open my eues; it was my father.

ใ…ก

My father too was gently dozing.

“Wake up,” I whispered in his ear.

He awoke with a start. He sat up, bewildered, stunned, like an orphan. He looked all around him, taking it all in as if he had studdenly decided to make an inventory of his universe, to determine where he was and how and why he was there.

Then he smiled.

I shall always remember that smile. What world did it come from?

์—˜๋ฆฌ ์•„๋ฒ„์ง€ ใ… ใ… ใ…  ๋“ ๋“ ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ์˜†์—์„œ ์•„๋“ค์„ ์ง€์ผœ์ฃผ๊ณ  ๋˜ ๋ณธ์ธ๋„ ์•„๋“ค์—๊ฒŒ ์˜์ง€ํ•˜๊ณ .. ์•„๋“ค์—๊ฒŒ ๋ฏธ์†Œ๋„ ์ง“๊ณ  ๋‹ค ์ž˜ ๋  ๊ฑฐ๋ผ๊ณ .. ์ด ์ฑ…์„ ์ฝ์œผ๋ฉด์„œ ์ด ์•„๋ฒ„์ง€ ๋Œ€ํ•ด ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ์• ํ‹‹ํ•œ ๋งˆ์Œ์ด ์ƒ๊ฒผ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋งŒํผ ์—˜๋ฆฌ์˜ ๊ธ€์—์„œ ์•„๋ฒ„์ง€์— ๋Œ€ํ•œ ์‚ฌ๋ž‘์ด ๋А๊ปด์ง„๋‹ค.

A terrible thought crossed my mind: What if he had wanted to be rid of his father? He had felt his father growing weaker and, believing that the end was near, had thought by this separation to free himself of a burden that could diminish his own chance for survival.

It was good that Iย hadย forgotten all that. And I was glad that Rabbi Eliahu continued to search for his beloved son.

And in spite of myself, a prayer formed inside me, a prayer to this God in whom I no longer believed.

“Oh God, Master of the Universe, give me the strength never to do what Rabbi Eliahu’s son has done.”

ใ…ก

“Did you eat?””
“No.”
“Why?”
“They didn’t give us anything… They said that we were sick, that we would die soon, and that it would be a waste of food… I can’t go on…”

I gave him what was left of my soup. But my heart was heavy. I was aware that I was doing it grudgingly.

Just like Rabbi Eliahu’s son, I had not passed the test.

ํ•œ ์•„๋ฒ„์ง€๊ฐ€ ์•„๋“ค์„ ์ฐพ๋Š”๋‹ค. ์—˜๋ฆฌ๋Š” ๊ทธ ์•„๋“ค์„ ์•ˆ๋‹ค. ๋‚˜์•ฝํ•ด์ง„ ์•„๋น ๊ฐ€ ์ž์‹ ์˜ ์ƒ์กด์— ๋ถ€๋‹ด๋œ๋‹ค๊ณ  ํŒ๋‹จํ•ด์„œ ์Šค์Šค๋กœ ์•„๋ฒ„์ง€๋ฅผ ๋ฒ„๋ฆฐ ์•„๋“ค. ์•„๋ฒ„์ง€๋Š” ๊ทธ ์ƒํ™ฉ์„ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ณ  ๊ทธ์ € ์•„๋“ค์ด ์—†์–ด์กŒ๋‹ค๊ณ  ์• ํƒ€๊ฒŒ ์ฐพ๋Š”๋‹ค. ์—˜๋ฆฌ๋Š” ๊ทธ ์ƒํ™ฉ์„ ๋ชฉ๊ฒฉํ•˜๋ฉด์„œ, ์ž์‹ ์€ ๊ทธ ์•„๋“ค์ด ํ•œ ํ–‰๋™์„ ํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š๋„๋ก ์šฉ๊ธฐ๋ฅผ ๋‹ฌ๋ผ๊ณ  ์‹ ์—๊ฒŒ ๊ธฐ๋„ํ•œ๋‹ค. โ€‹

๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ์ดํ›„ ์ž์‹ ์˜ ์•„๋ฒ„์ง€๊ฐ€ ๋‚˜์•ฝํ•ด์กŒ์„ ๋•Œ, ์ž์‹ ๋„ ์•„๋ฒ„์ง€๋ฅผ ๋ฒ„๋ฆฐ ๊ทธ ์•„๋“ค๊ณผ ๊ฐ™์€ ์ƒ๊ฐ์„ ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋œ๋‹ค. โ€‹โ€‹

๋งˆ์Œ์ด ์•„ํ”„๋‹ค.โ€‹
๋„ˆ๋ฌด ์•„ํ”„๋‹ค..
๋งˆ์Œ์ด ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ์•„ํŒŒ์š”…