A few of the victims of Nazi death camps were extremely wealthy. One man had come into the camp with hat, gloves and well-cut overcoat. A few days later he was working at the crematorium refuse heap

A few of the victims of Nazi death camps were extremely wealthy. One man had come into the camp with hat, gloves and well-cut overcoat. A few days later he was working at the crematorium refuse heap. He, ‘who had looked like a diplomat, had become a dirty, lice-infested, human wreck, his spirits broken.

I saw him go over to one of the camp foremen and whisper (something). The prisoner…brought out a small leather pouch (and) shook the contents into his palm. Like a million little suns the diamonds shone and sparkled. The foreman nodded and held out three miserable uncooked potatoes, and the elderly man, shaking with impatience, tore them out of his hand and put them to his mouth.

Here, in this Stock Exchange of Hell, the value of a bag of diamonds was three uncooked potatoes. And this value was the real one. Three potatoes…prolonged life, gave strength to work and to withstand beatings. For a while, a short while, it might delight the eyes of a ruthless murderer, but when the day of reckoning came it would not save his life.

Martin Gilbert, Holocaust, p.729

What is the true value of our possessions? What is the use of acquiring the world’s goods when a man may lose his soul?

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