The world is a very interesting place. There are so many universes within

this one single world… everyone lives within his or her own sphere, and only

sometimes do these spheres intersect. I’m often struck by the enormity of lives

that exist – I think of my own life, and all the people, places, and circumstances

 in it, and then I watch commuters stream off of the train going into Boston in

 the morning, and I think of all of those people who have lives as intricate as

 mine… you look ahead on a crowded highway and realize that in each car

  is someone with his own life… glance down from an airplane high in the

  sky and see endless rows of houses and roads… people everywhere, always.

   Everyone lives in their own way - we hardly ever think of the other worlds that exist.

                But these places do exist. And beyond the lives so similar to my own, there

    are lives of people all over the world – lives of royalty and extreme wealth, lives of

     extreme poverty, lives of slavery, lives of fear, lives of deterioration, lives of living

       each day in a countdown to death, lives that exist only to end… Lives that are so

         similar to my own, or lives that are so different I wonder if it’s even the same universe

             after all. How can I live my life, and so many other millions of people live theirs,

                 unaware of the people living their lives in depravity, poverty, depression, slavery…

                      And then there are the people of the past. The numbers are unfathomable. 140,000

         years of human life and each of those years with hundreds then thousands then

            millions then billions of lives, all with their own spheres… It’s unthinkable how many

                lives have been lived – how many thoughts, how many meals, how many trips to

                     work, how many heartbreaks, how many misunderstandings, how many births, how

                        many deaths, how many wars, how many famines, how many … of it all.

                                              Sometimes it makes me feel rather insignificant. How can my one life

      among seven billion now and a number virtually infinite when

         you combine past and present ever hold any significance

            to the universe? Truthfully, I think that ultimately, we

         are of no use to the universe. It will continue to exist

long before we are all gone, and has for long before us.

            Yet in no way can I believe we are useless to each

         other. Since we are useless to the universe, we

       are therefore only existentially important as a

     worldwide community. Therefore, it is the

   impact we have upon that community –

 be it the world of billions or my world of a

 couple thousand – that truly makes a

 difference. We live through our actions

 and legacies and what we leave to others.

                                                Each life, then, is important. Six million

                                     lives? Twelve million? The entire United States

       has 230 million people. There are 275 million children

           worldwide who live in slavery. There are over 7000

              million people in the world now. If there were 2.3 billion

                 people alive in 1940, the Nazis killed one-half percent

     of them. One-half percent is hardly anything. But on

       this scale… one-half percent is everything.

                                                                Six million people? There were 1.5 million people

          at the Patriots’ parade. Multiply by four. How many lives

              did I see that day? Multiply by four. They’re all gone.

                The enormity of it is astonishing. For every life that was

                     lost, hundreds of people mourned. Granted, in this

                        case, the majority of mourners were dead soon

                        anyway, but for those who survived… One human

                        life is not really important for what it is alone – it is

                      important for the impact it has and the bonds it

                  creates. All those bonds were broken, desecrated

            – gone in flames. How could that much life be destroyed?

                                                        I cannot ask why. The time has passed and even an

      answer will never bring all those lives back. All we

                                                     can do is remember, never let it happen again – and

                                                       say thank you to people like Schindler who saved

                                                          who they could. The fraction may have been

           small, minute – but even one-half percent

              is the difference between nothing and  

                 something. So, Oskar Schindler and

                    all like you who ultimately tried to

                       use your power as a person

                          to reach out and help

                            those people whose

                                                               lives yours

                                                                  touched…   

                                                                     thank

                                                                      you.