Tess Ní Ghríofa (Bl. 2) a bhuaigh Duais Mary Elmes i Staidéar ar an Uileloscadh lena múinteoir staire, In. Ní Sheaghdha. Bhí Tess ar dhuine de na hiomaitheoirí ab óige a chuir isteach ar an gcomórtas. Táimid ar fad an-bhródúil as an ngaisce seo. Maith thú, a Tess! Seo thíos a gearrscéal cumhachtach:
Just breathe.
Just breathe, I remind myself.
In. Out.
Again.
In. Out.
I have been here so long. I haven’t counted the days, but I am sure that it has been months. I cannot recall the feeling of warmth. I remember being warm, but now it feels as though I shall never be so again.
The cold has seeped through my thin clothes, soaking into my skin, into my blood. Where it will stay, inside me.
And the wet. I do not believe I have been fully dry for quite some time.
It is so noisy here. Yet so quiet. The land is bare, and stark. And the people, they do not talk. Not much. They are too tired. Too weary to even speak.
Today it’s different.
We have to go somewhere.
Nobody knows where.
Nobody knows why.
But we go. Obeying like children. It is easier, than a fight. They are stronger. We are weak. They are in charge.
We cannot fight back. I have seen what happens if someone does. I remember that day. A few weeks ago. An older man. Hair barely there. Skin, grey. His eyes, sunken. He disobeyed. He defied.
I still remember the sight of his blood.
Bright red. Vibrant against the grey mud.
‘A splash of colour’ one of the guffawing guards exclaimed. As though he hadn’t just taken a life.
Now. Lines. Of people.
Not quite marching. We have not got the energy for that. Trudging. Slouched. Feet dragging. Eyes tired. Bodies sore. Spirits broken.
Too tired to struggle. Against them. The men, in their proud uniform.
My head swims, and I stagger.
Breathe. I remind myself.
In. Out. Step.
In. Out. Step.
In. Out. Step.
In. Out. Step.
In. Out. Step.
In. Out. Step.
-stop.
I almost crash into the person in front.
We have arrived.
Where? I don’t know. Nobody does. Except these men. Who guide us into the building. They are like dogs, herding sheep.
No. They are like wolves.
Clothes are stripped, dignity long gone.
The doors slam.
Darkness. Swallowing us.
Thick, suffocating, darkness.
Breathe, I remind myself.
In. Out.
In. Out.
In. Out.
In. Out
In. Out.
In. Out.
In—
Ainmníodh Duais Mary Elmes i Staidéar ar an Uileloscadh in onóir an t-aon Éireannach a fuair gradam na bhFíréan i measc na Náisiún de thoradh a hobair le linn an Dara Cogadh Domhanda, agus í lonnaithe i ndeisceart na Fraince, nuair a shábháil sí breis is 400 leanbh ó dhíbirt chuig campaí géibhinn agus campaí báis.
The Mary Elmes Prize in Holocaust Studies is named in honour of the only Irish person to receive the Righteous Among the Nations award. During World War II, while based in the south of France, she rescued over 400 children from deportation to concentration and death camps.