Originally written early on October 4th, the day after the Prize in Ethics Ceremony. A full day report will be coming soon.
Dr. Patterson told us that when he met Elie Wiesel his life was divided into two parts. I did not understand what he meant until after the awards were handed out.
When the ceremony was done, I found myself standing near Gavriel (the first place winner). Professor Wiesel came to us and took my hand his his left and Gavi’s in his right. He held my hand in the way family does sometimes, when they are proud or desperate—his large fingers curled around mine, my palm against the back of his hand. He gripped but did not hurt me (which is incredibly rare, with my Rheumatoid Arthritis). His fingers were soft but strong, the skin worn with age and gentle. He looked at us in turn, in the eyes, and I do not know if he said anything—I don’t think he did.
I said, “Thank you.” But I did not mean thank you.
I said, “It’s such an honor to meet you.” But I did not mean it.
Are there even words for what I meant or felt? How I loved him from my soul and I felt it returned—a friendship, a kinship, made in a moment. I could see it in his amber eyes and feel it in the way he gripped my hand longer, longer than a handshake. Like an old man would hold his granddaughter, like a mentor his student: All the force of his love for the world—his love which is not blind to its evil—passing into me with a silent commission.
I am not trying to be dramatic, to make more of that minute. I am not trying to milk it for significance. I cannot forget it, cannot stop playing it over in my head.
It was all this, and I cannot say how I know—only that I woke up this morning and started crying as I thought of it again. I cannot explain the weight of it. I cannot explain its preciousness.
I meant so much more than “thank you” or “it’s an honor”—and eventually I stopped trying to say what I meant and I met his eyes, letting my throat close over my impossibly small words and trusting that he would know, would feel it all.
He said, “Thank you. It is my honor.”
And he meant it, and much more.
