War Museum and Simba

I'm spending the last few days with my parents in London - we're staying in Wimbledon with the parents of Sarah, my friend and roommate from my trip to Switzerland. Her parents gave us a warm welcome and we are so grateful to stay in a home instead of a hotel. We're catching the train into London each day and mom and dad are quite proud of their skills at navigating through train stations and the underground system.

Today we visited the Imperial War Museum as I knew we'd all find the war history interesting and I particularly wanted my parents to see the holocaust exhibit. I've visited the holocaust museum in Washington, D.C. and also visited Auschwitz but my parents have never seen an exhibition on the holocaust. I think it's important for people to view the horrors in person, if possible, by seeing artifacts and viewing exhibits dedicated to preserving the memories of survivors and honouring those who suffered. We also have a close connection through our Polish heritage as the Poles were slaughtered as well. Every time I see one of these exhibits I find it so difficult to absorb the statistics of the number of mass murders.

We spent a few hours at the museum and one of the exhibitions I visited was The Children's War exhibit. My eyes filled with tears numerous times as I viewed a detailed record of the suffering of children in Britain during World War II. I had no idea of the extent of the suffering in Britain.

There were photos of children or a child's posession with a brief biography accompanying the item but there was never any indication until the last line regarding whether the child survived or died. My emotions were continually being jarred.

Photography isn't permitted, but I copied down a few of my favourite quotes from children who lived through the war.

In regards to soldiers coming home to meet children who didn't remember them:

"It's a soldier, mommy, with a kit bag. I think it's your husband."

In regards to children travelling to the country and taken in by strangers:

"If you were a child with glasses or spots you were always left to the end."

(That one especially broke my heart because my sister is one of the most beautifully freckled people I know and I hated to think that she would have been chosen last simply because God blessed her with an extra measure of beauty spots.)

In a letter from a child to his mother after he had been sent to the country to avoid the air raids in London:

"They call this spring, mum, and they have one down here every year."

Tonight we took in something a little lighter by attending The Lion King, my first West End show! We were all impressed - a fabulous evening! I was a bit skeptical about a cartoon being made into a West End show, particularly a cartoon I wasn't really a fan of, but men and women of all ages had raved about the show so I figured it must be pretty good. They didn't lie - it's impressive and even made us laugh out loud. Very clever costuming and creative set designs.

A drunk man enjoyed flirting with mom on the train back to Wimbledon late one night. Dad and I were sitting behind her and were quite amused by the man's attempts. We made it clear that we were with her and she was married with children, but I think he was too drunk to understand what we were saying.

A drunken flirt on the train. Poor mom.