A Symbol’s Deeper Meaning

We are on a road trip and we have stopped at a gas station to fill up the car, use the restrooms and get some drinks.

Harry handles the gas and refreshments. Emma and I go into the soiled restroom that is better than nothing at all. It reeks of urine and the floor is sticky. Every time we take a step, the floor holds onto the soles of our shoes for just a second too long.

After covering the seat with layers of tissue paper, I hold Emma above the toilet seat hoping she won’t splash herself or me. That’s when she says it.

“What’s that?”

I don’t want to turn to look at what she sees until she is finished.
“Just a sec, Em. When you’re all finished I’ll have a look.”

The task is completed but her question remains.

“What’s that Mama?” she asks again.

I turn around to see what she is pointing to. A big, angry swastika drawn with black tempera paint has been smeared onto the back of the restroom door. My mind races around. Should I save her from the pain of the adult truth or do I stick to the facts? Will it be better for my child’s intuitive skills if I always give an adult answer, even if it may be beyond her comprehension? My thoughts run through my mind like a rat in a maze. It seems like ten minutes but it’s really only ten seconds until I respond.

“Well, that’s a symbol that represents a time when a very bad man did bad things to the Jews.” It just comes out. I cannot water it down. I sense that this is an important moment, and Emma will always remember how I explain this. I am sure of it.

“Why Mama? Why did the man do bad things to us?” Emma continues to ask for more information. Now I’m in deep water. I cannot turn back. I feel compelled to explain the inexplicable.

“Well,” I say, “sometimes people decide not to like a group of people when things are not going so well for them in their lives. Like if they don’t have enough jobs to make money to feed their families. People get mad when that happens and they take it out on innocent people sometimes. The bad man decided that he was mad at the Jews and believed that they were taking jobs away from people he liked a lot. He decided he didn’t like the Jews so much.”

I am almost trembling. Why does my four-year-old need to know about the world? Did I need to tell her the truth? Should I have made up something instead?

“You mean people don’t like us?” Emma is ready to cry and totally bewildered. I was wrong. This was not the right choice.

“Emma, lots of people in the world love you and me and Papa. What happened when this symbol was made was a very long time ago and these people can’t do bad things anymore. They’re not alive anymore. There’s nothing to worry about. We are safe.”

I say this while fully knowing that this is not the last time I will lie to my daughter to keep her protected from the troubles she will find herself facing soon enough.