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I was reading a book by Viktor E. Frankl who survived several years in the German death camps. One passage really touched me. Frankl, along with the other prisoners was turned out at dawn for a work detail. The men were starving and many didn't have proper boots. While waiting for roll call, Frankl happened to glance up at the dawn sky. It was beautiful with streaks of orange, pink, red and blue. As he watched the spectacle, a wood thrush began to sing.
Frankl felt the deepest gratitude that he had been given this moment to help him go on,
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