Holocaust Museum: A Short Story

Today Andres and his younger brother, Joshua, went to the Holocaust Museum with their school. They were the only ones with a grandfather who had died in the Holocaust. The museum was very beautiful and posh, all made of black marble, like millionaires’ houses. It was full of sad black-and-white pictures and lists of people, countries, and dead people. Andres walked past the pictures and his teacher said: "Don 't touch!"
But Andres did touch one picture, made of cardboard, showing a thin, pale man who was crying and holding a sandwich in his hand. The tears came down streaming down his cheeks like the divider lines you see on the highway, and his brother said she would tell their teacher if he touched it. He said he didn 't care, he could tell whomever he wanted. "It 's my Grandpa and I 'm touching whatever I want."
After the pictures, they …show more content…
"Let 's put them on," his mother said and took off the wrapping "to make sure they fit."
"They 're from Germany, you know," Andres told her squeezing her hand tightly. "Of course I know" she smiled, "Adidas is the best brand in the world." "Grandpa was from Germany too," he tried to give her a hint. "Grandpa was from Poland," she corrected him. For a moment she became sad but began to smile again. She put one shoe on his foot and started tying the laces. Andres kept quiet. She didn 't have a clue. She wasn 't there to hear the old man speak. For her, shoes were just shoes and Germany was Poland. There was no point in telling her and making her sadder.
"Don 't wear out the soles right away."
He looked down at the pale hide covering his feet and remembered everything the old man who strangled the soldier said everyone should remember. He touched he blue Adidas stripes and remembered his cardboard grandfather. "Are the shoes comfortable? These aren 't cheap Russian sneakers, you