What gives some people the resilience to endure inconceivable horrors, pick up the pieces and just keep going?
In trying to fathom this existential question my thoughts often turn to Holocaust survivors, and an experience, past. It unfolded in a restaurant in Toorak, where I’d decided to indulge myself one morning.
On arrival my eyes fell upon a large table of elderly women. Beautifully groomed, they were chatting eagerly and clearly soaking up the joy of each other’s company. I watched as a lovely waitress appeared at well-spaced intervals to check on their needs, fill their glasses and ask if there was anything else she could do for them.
Read the full article by Janine Joseph at The Age.