Yom HaShoah — HHRCMAINE

Yom HaShoah 2026

Program from the 2026 Service

Welcome & Introduction by Tam Huynh

Let us start with a prayer from Rabbi Lord Sacks and the lighting of three candles:

Today, on Yom HaShoah, we remember the victims of the greatest crime of man against man – the young, the old, the innocent, the million and a half children, starved, shot, given lethal injections, gassed, burned and turned to ash, because they were deemed guilty of the crime of being different.

We remember what happens when hate takes hold of the human heart and turns it to stone; what happens when victims cry for help and there is no one listening; what happens when humanity fails to recognise that those who are not in our image are nonetheless in God’s image.

We remember and pay tribute to the survivors, who bore witness to what happened, and to the victims, so that robbed of their lives, they would not be robbed also of their deaths.

We remember and give thanks for the righteous of the nations who saved lives, often at risk of their own, teaching us how in the darkest night we can light a candle of hope.

Today, on Yom HaShoah, we call on You, Almighty God, to help us hear Your voice that says in every generation:

Do not murder.

Do not stand idly by the blood of your neighbor.

Do not oppress the stranger.

We know that whilst we do not have the ability to change the past, we can change the future.

We know that whilst we cannot bring the dead back to life, we can ensure their memories live on and that their deaths were not in vain.

And so, on this Yom HaShoah, we commit ourselves to one simple act: Yizkor, Remember.

May the souls of the victims be bound in the bond of everlasting life. Amen.

Blessed Is the Match, a poem written by Hannah Senesh, who parachuted into occupied Hungary from Eretz Yisrael in 1944 to help her Jewish brethren. Caught several months later by the Nazis, she was executed at the age of 23.

Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame.

Blessed is the flame that burns in the heart’s secret places.

Blessed is the heart with strength to stop its beating for honor’s sake

Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame.

We Begin With Silence

We begin – with silence.

The silence of death; the silence of life.

The silence after destruction;

The silence before creation.

There are times when songs falter,

When darkness fills life,

When martyrdom becomes a constellation of faith

Against the unrelieved black of space about us.

There are no words to reach beyond the night,

No messengers to tell the full tale.

There is only silence.

The silence of Job.

The silence of the Six Million.

The silence of memory.

Let us remember them, then, as we link our silences

Into the silence which becomes a prayer,

Linking us with the past,

Touching that darkness we cannot fully enter,

The anguish that is memory and love.

And life and death.

Silence.

Video

As we remember and mourn all that we have lost, let us also remember the joyful, complex, difficult, and full lives that they lived. As we watch these scenes from Jewish life in Europe before the war we hold tight to the people and places that were lost.

https://www.yadvashem.org/education/educational-videos/video-toolbox/hevt-life-before.html (start at 2:15 or 2:16→end)

Let us remember the generations who remembered. The tradition of remembering continues. We are a link in this chain. We acknowledge this incomplete list of Mainers who survived: those who are still with us and those who are no longer here.

Julius Ciembroniewicz. Tama Fineberg. Gerda Haas. Dr. Rudolf Haas. Judith Magyar Isaacson. Rose Magyar. Alfred Kantor. Inge Kantor. Manfred Kelman. Emil Landau. Cantor Kurt Messerschmidt. Sonja Messerschmidt. Edith Pagelson. Charles Rotmil. Julia Skalina. Jerry Slivka. Rochelle Blechman Slivka. Alan Wainberg. Walter Ziffer.

Erica invites anyone who has a family member, a friend, or a person of importance who perished, escaped or survived to stand and say their names. I will begin with a few of my more than one hundred family members:

Teddy Buchwalter

Pinek Goldenzeil

Samuel Nadelhaft

And Jacob Nadelhaft

Shecalls on any member of the audience who would like to acknowledge someone.

We continue with El Male Rachamim, a prayer for the dead that originated in the Jewish communities in Europe where it was first recited for the Jewish victims of the Crusades. It is customary for all to stand, so I ask those who are able to please rise as I recite a special version of the prayer dedicated to those who perished in the Holocaust in both Hebrew and in English. I invite all who wish to join in.

Willow Noa sings El Male Rachamim,

El Malei Rachamim

Exalted compassionate God, Grant perfect peace in your

sheltering presence, among the holy and the pure, to the souls

of all our brethren, men, women,

and children of the House of Israel and others who were

slaughtered and suffocated and burned to ashes. May their

memory endure, inspiring truth and loyalty in our lives. May

their souls thus be bound up in the bond of life. May they rest

in peace.

And let us say: Amen.

We remember those who were able to escape, and those who sought to flee but found no safe harbor.

Refugee Blues, by W. H. Auden

Refugee Blues by W. H. Auden

Say this city has ten million soles,

Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes:

Yet there’s no place for us, my dear, yet there’s no place for us.

Once we had a country and we thought it fair,

Look in the atlas and you’ll find it there:

We cannot go there now, my dear, we cannot go there now.

In the village churchyard there grows an old yes,

Every spring it blossoms anew:

Old passports can’t do that, my dear, old passports can’t do that.

The consul banged the table and said,

‘If you’ve got no passport you’re officially dead’”

But we are still alive, my dear, but we are still alive.

Went to a committee: they offered me a chair;

Asked me politely to return next year:

But where shall we go today, my dear, but where shall we go today?

Came to a public meeting; the speaker got up and said:

‘If we let them in, they will steal our daily bread’”

He was talking of you and me, my dear, he was talking of you and me.

Thought I heard the thunder rumbling in the sky;

It was Hitler over Europe, saying ‘They must die’”

O we were in his mind, my dear, O we were in his mind.

Saw a poodle in a jacket fasted with a pin,

Saw a door opened and a cat let in:

But they weren’t German Jews, my dear, but they weren’t German Jews.

Went down the harbor and stood upon the quay,

Saw the fish swimming as if they were free:

Only ten feet away, my dear, only ten feet away.

Walked through a wood, saw the birds in the grees;

They had no politicians and sang at their ease:

They weren’t the human race, my dear, they weren’t the human race.

Dreamed I saw a building with a thousand floors,

A thousand windows and a thousand doors:

Not one of them was ours, my dear, not one of them was ours.

Stood on a great plain in the falling snow;

Ten thousand soldiers marched to and fro:

Looking for you and me, my dear, looking for you and me.

A Dream by Avraham Koplowicz.

Avraham Koplowicz was murdered in Auschwitz in 1944 at the age of fourteen.

A Dream by Abraham Koplowicz

When I grow up and reach the age of 20,

I’ll set out to see the enchanting world.

I’ll take a seat in a bird with a motor;

I’ll rise and soar high into space.

I’ll fly, sail, hover

Over the lovely faraway world.

I’ll soar over rivers and oceans

Skyward shall I ascend and blossom,

A cloud my sister, the wind my brother.

DEB returns to her seat.

Eli, Eli by Hannah Senesh

My God, my God,

I pray that these things never end

The sand and the sea

The rush of the water

The crash of the heavens

The prayer of the heart

The sand and the sea

The rush of the water

The crash of the heavens

The prayer of the heart.

Joel the Redhead by Elie Wiesel, Holocaust survivor, writer, and Nobel Peace Prize winner.

Joel the Redhead by Elie Wiesel

Joel the redhead was five years old and he knew that he must not shout; to shout was dangerous.

An unusually clever hiding place had been found for him: under the cave whose entrance…could not be found ... .With him were his father, his mother, his older brother Yekkutiel and his Uncle Zanvel, whom he loved because he told him stories.

Joel knew many things, but not whether it was day or night outside. In his cave under the cave it was always dark…

During the raids the subterranean inhabitants had learned to communicate silently. Uncle Zanvel told his funny stories without a sound.

Joel’s father was the first to go, having ventured out to look for water one night. A rifle shot cut him down. A scream was heard…And in the shelter Joel succeeded in crying without crying.

His mother placed her hand over his mouth when a few days later Yekutiel was arrested. That same evening she, too, was taken. Joel the Redhead knew that he was going to burst with pain, but his Uncle Zanvel’s hand was on his mouth.

Zanvel, too, disappeared. And Joel was left alone in the darkness. His hand covering his mouth, he began to sob without a sound, scream without a sound, survive without a sound.

I Believe

I Believe, from an unsigned inscription found on the wall of a cave in Cologne where Jews had been hiding

I believe in the sun

though it is late

in rising

I believe in love

though it is absent

I believe in G-d

though he is

silent….

Never Shall I Forget by Elie Wiesel

Never shall I forget that night,

the first night in the camp

which has turned my life into one long night,

seven times cursed and seven times sealed.

Never shall I forget the smoke.

Never shall I forget the little faces of the children

whose bodies I saw turned into wreaths of smoke

beneath a silent blue sky.

Never shall i forget those flames

which consumed my faith forever.

Never shall I forget that nocturnal silence

which deprived me for all eternity of the desire to live.

Never shall i forget those moments

which murdered my G-d and my soul

and turned my dreams to dust.

Never shall I forget these things,

even if I am condemned to live

as long as G-d Himself.

Never.

Shema by Primo Levi.

You who live safe

In your warm houses,

You who find, returning in the evening,

Hot food and friendly faces:

Consider if this is a man

Who works in the mud,

Who does not know peace,

Who fights for a scrap of bread,

Who dies because of a yes or a no.

Consider if this is a woman

Without hair and without name,

With no more strength to remember,

Her eyes empty and her womb cold

Like a frog in winter.

Meditate that this came about:

I command these words to you.

Carve them in your hearts

At home, in the street,

Going to bed, rising;

Repeat them to your children.

Or may your house fall apart,

May illness impede you,

May your children turn their faces

from you.

My Mother’s Friend by Lily Brett

My mother

had a schoolfriend

she shared the war with

my mother

looked after her friend

in the ghetto

she laid her out

as thought she was dead

and the Gestapo overlooked her

in Auschwitz

she fed her friend snow

when she was burning with typhoid

and when

the Nazis

emptied Stuthof

they threw

the inmates

onto boats in the Baltic

and tried

to drown

as many as they could

my mother

and her friend

survived

Bayreuth

after the war

my mother’s friend

patted my cheeks

and curled my curls

and hurled herself

from the top

of a bank.

Simchat Torah by Elie Wiesel

In one of the barracks several hundred Jews gathered to celebrate Simchat Torah. In the shadow of shadows? Yes - even there. On the threshold of the death chambers? Yes - even there. But since there was no Sefer Torah, how could they organize the traditional procession with the sacred scrolls? AS they were trying to solve the problem, an old man - was he really old? The word had no meaning there - noticed a young boy - who was so old, so old - standing there looking on and dreaming. “Do you remember what you learned in heder?” asked the man. “Yes, I do,” replied the boy. “Really?” said the man, “you remember Shema Yisrael?” “I remember much more," said the boy. “Shema Yisrael is enough,” said the man. And he lifted the boy, clasped him in his arms and began dancing with him - as though he were the Torah. And all joined in. They all sang and danced and cried. They wept, but they sang with fervor - never before had Jews celebrated Simchat Torah with such fervor.

Zog Nit Keyn Mol

The next piece, Zog Nit Keyn Mol was written in Yiddish by Hersh Glik for the Vilna Jewish United Partisan organization and became the hymn for the ghetto uprising. From the ghetto it spread to the concentration camps, labor camps, and other Jewish partisan organizations.

Never say that you are going your last way, Though lead-filled skies above blot out the blue of day. The hour for which we long will certainly appear, The earth shall thunder ‘neath our tread that we are here!

From lands of green palm trees to lands all white with snow, We are coming with our pain and with our woe, And where’er a spurt of our blood did drop, Our courage will again sprout from that spot.

For us the morning sun will radiate the day, And the enemy and past will fade away, But should the dawn delay or sunrise wait too long, Then let all future generations sing this song.

This song was written with our blood and not with lead, This is no song of free birds flying overhead, But a people amid crumbling walls did stand, They stood and sang this song with rifles held in hand.

זאָג ניט קײן מאָל אַז דו גײסט דעס לעצטן װעג, כאָטש הימלען בלײַענע פֿאַרשטעלן בלױע טעג, קומען װעט נאַך אונדזער אױסגעבענקטע שעה -– ס’װעט אַ פּױק טאַן אונדזער טראָט — מיר זײנען דאַ

We pause now to recite the Mourner's Kaddish, the Jewish prayer in memory of the dead. All who know the prayer are welcome to join in. Those who are in mourning traditionally rise during this prayer, so please do so if you feel comfortable.

RABBI ASCH recites the Kaddish:

יִתְגַּדַּל וְיִתְקַדַּשׁ שְׁמֵהּ רַבָּא.

בְּעָלְמָא דִּי בְרָא כִרְעוּתֵהּ וְיַמְלִיךְ מַלְכוּתֵהּ בְּחַיֵּיכון וּבְיומֵיכון וּבְחַיֵּי דְכָל בֵּית יִשרָאֵל בַּעֲגָלָא וּבִזְמַן קָרִיב, וְאִמְרוּ אמן

יְהֵא שְׁמֵהּ רַבָּא מְבָרַךְ לְעָלַם וּלְעָלְמֵי עָלְמַיָּא

יִתְבָּרַךְ וְיִשְׁתַּבַּח וְיִתְפָּאַר וְיִתְרומַם וְיִתְנַשּא וְיִתְהַדָּר וְיִתְעַלֶּה וְיִתְהַלָּל שְׁמֵהּ דְּקֻדְשָׁא. בְּרִיךְ הוּא

לְעֵלָּא מִן כָּל בִּרְכָתָא וְשִׁירָתָא תֻּשְׁבְּחָתָא וְנֶחֱמָתָא דַּאֲמִירָן בְּעָלְמָא. וְאִמְרוּ אָמֵן

יְהֵא שְׁלָמָא רַבָּא מִן שְׁמַיָּא וְחַיִּים עָלֵינוּ וְעַל כָּל יִשרָאֵל. וְאִמְרוּ אָמֵן

עושה שָׁלום בִּמְרומָיו הוּא יַעֲשה שָׁלום עָלֵינוּ וְעַל כָּל יִשרָאֵל וְאִמְרוּ אָמֵן

A poem by Maira Kalman:

“If you meet the Holocaust, you can never escape its grip. You are obliged to feel it reverberate through all things for the rest of your life.

The terrors of the world exist.

And we are wounded.

It would be so nice to never be afraid.

But I am afraid that is just not possible.”

The Talmud says that

the human was created as a unique

being in the world, to teach that one who

destroys a single soul has destroyed an

entire world. And one who saves a single

soul has saved an entire world.

So let us engage in the sacred work of tikkun olam

today. Let us not wait another moment.

Let us repair the world with love for one another.

Let us start today with a resolve to fight injustice.

Let this service remind us of the horrors of the past

and the hope for the future.

Let us dedicate ourselves to faith, hope and the

traditions of our people.

Let the memory of all those who were killed inspire

us to become more loving and kind, and to speak

out against injustice wherever it occurs.

May the memory of the righteous be for a blessing.

CATHRYN WILSON reads an excerpt from Charles Rotmil’s unpublished book

A Prayer for Peace

May we see the day when war and bloodshed cease,

when a great peace will embrace the whole world.

Then nation will not threaten nation,

and mankind will not again know war.

For all who live on earth shall realize

we have not come into being to hate or to destroy.

We have come into being to praise, to labor, and to love.

Full the promise conveyed in Scripture:

I will bring peace to the land,

and you shall lie down and no one shall terrify you.

I will rid the land of vicious beasts

and it shall not be ravaged by war.

Let love and justice flow like a mighty stream.

Let peace fill the earth as the waters fill the sea.

And let us say: Amen