Schoolchildren in the city of Efrat, south of Jerusalem, are commemorating the Holocaust in an unusual way this year, by presenting a collection of 1.5 million buttons. The buttons represent the 1.5 million Jewish children murdered in the Holocaust. The project was organized by teachers Susan Weiss and Tali Samuel of the Aseh Chayil elementary school. It was inspired by similar projects in the United States and Europe. The purpose of collecting buttons is to help the mind grasp the concept of “1.5 million,” a number so large it is difficult to comprehend, the teachers said. Buttons in particular are significant due to their individuality, which reminds viewers that each of those killed in the Holocaust was unique, they said. Among those who donated buttons to the children's project were former Chief Rabbi of Israel Rabbi Yisrael Meir Lau, who survived the Holocaust as a child, authors Uri Or Lev and Nurit Yovel, fashion designers Ronen Chen and Naama Betzalel, and various ministers and Members of Knesset. Former MK Shevach Weiss added his story to the project as well. The parents of fallen soldier Hagai Lev of Efrat donated a button from their son's IDF uniform. Hagai was killed by a PA sniper in Gaza in 2002. In addition to collecting buttons, students are collecting personal stories from Holocaust survivors. “The goal of collecting the stories is to bring home the fact that each one of the huge number of children who perished had their own story,” Weiss and Samuel explained. The buttons are now on display in Aseh Chayil, in nine large containers with clear walls. The stories and testimony have been gathered in an archive. One of the stories students collected, from a concentration camp survivor, was as follows: The winter of 1940 was particularly harsh, and we all suffered from the cold. Most people died, of hunger, cold, and various sicknesses. Because we didn't have coats, my mother decided to sew coats for my sister and I used the blankets we had brought. Nobody in the camp had thread. We gathered the clothes of those who had died, and removed the stitches from their clothing. Buttons were worth a lot, more than expensive jewelry. Each button was guarded like a treasure. Those who had buttons were “rich.” A button could be exchanged for a piece of bread, a bowl of soup, a needle, or even paper and a pencil. Most importantly, whoever had buttons stayed warm in the winter, because a button could keep a shirt, sweater, or jacket closed. After a long time the jackets were ready. The only thing missing was buttons. The only thing of value my mother had left was a silver thimble she had received from her mother, who had made aliyah to the land of Israel two years earlier. With this treasure, my mother hoped to fulfill her wish: buttons for the two coats for my sister and I. In the end she found two red buttons and two black ones. My sister and I wore those coats when we were freed from the camp. Buttons have a special significance for me. A small, simple thing like a button can teach us that nothing can be taken for granted, and to rejoice in what life offers us.
