Something that really stuck out to me this week was a line from the very end of the book. It is a short and simple quote and like normal, I am going to take it out of context. In one of the last chapters, The Story of Ten Days, the author writes, "Nobody knew his name." That hit me. I am the type of person that usually likes to talk to people and learn about them. I am not a fan of surface-level conversations. In the chapter, the man had just died. He fell off the top bunk. Nobody even knew his name. How tragic is that? Now, as I said before, I love meeting people; however, I oftentimes forget people's names. It is not because I do not care, I just happen to have a terrible memory and cannot remember people's names. Anyways, how sad is it that throughout everything that happened, this man passed away in front of people and nobody knew his name? The thing that basically classifies someone as who they are. Unless you're someone like me and have a terrible memory, a name is how you recognize someone around you. Friends, family, even acquaintance recognize others by their names most of the time. It is something important and is given to one person with a unique idea. Yeah, some people share the same names, but it's quite rare you find two different couples giving their own kids the same name for the same reason. All of this to say, it made me a little extra sad when I read this part. This man may or may not have had a family, or friends, or collogues or anything, but not one of them would know about his death because no one knew his name. It just made me somewhat sad.
I commented on Breanna's and Zane's posts.
I commented on Breanna's and Zane's posts.
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