It started with the ceremonial lowering of our nation’s flag from the flag pole. And then a large torch was lit - from which six smaller ones would be lit, representing the six million Jews murdered by the Nazis. One torch for each million of Jews who were murdered in the Holocaust over sixty years ago. They were lit by survivors of the Holocaust, after a video shared with us their stories of survival and of their dedication to building this state.

The memorial service for the victims and heroes of the Holocaust took place as it does every year, on the eve of Holocaust Remembrance Day, outside of Yad Vashem - Israel’s Holocaust Museum. Tonight, all around the world, Jewish communities are marking this memorial day with ceremonies, worship services, and solemn moments of silence.

The stage stands in front of a sculpture of Jews being marched to their death. All eyes are points downwards except for two pairs. There is an older man, holding a Torah, and looking up towards the Heavens - perhaps wondering where God is and hoping for guidance. And there is a young child whose eyes meet yours, almost pleading with you to answer his unasked question - where were you and why didn’t you save me?

In order to get to the seating area for the ceremony, one has to walk down a path called The Avenue of the Righteous Among The Nations. For a long time, there was a tree for every single non-Jew that the museum knows of, who saved or tried to save even one Jew during the Holocaust. Then they ran out of space.

Let me repeat that. They. Ran. Out. Of. Space.

Yad Vashem is not a small museum. And the grounds that it sits on are very large. Yet, the museum knows of so many people, over 17,000, who risked their lives, freedom, and safety in order rescue even one person, that there is no more room for more trees. On a day of remembering the overwhelming and massive tragedy that befell our people, I exist in awe of those that stood up for what they believed in, and risked their lives so that someone else could live. And they risked their lives so that their own chlidren would know that this world isn’t worth living in, if you can’t love and respect everyone. Their courage is awe-inspiring and impressive.

The juxtaposition of the ceremony taking place between the Avenue of the Righteous Among The Nations and the statue of Jews being marched to their death is a powerful message. Add these symbols to the symbol of today’s date (the same Hebrew date as the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising), and you might begin to understand the extent to which the Holocaust is part of the varied Israeli and Jewish psyches.

Tomorrow morning at 10 am a two-minute siren will go off and the nation of Israel will stand still. We will stand at attention and remember the six million Jews who were lost. We will pay homage to an entire third of the Jewish people who were wiped out. Cars will stop in the middle of the road and people will get out to stand silently. Business transactions will be put on hold. Channel after channel on the television has gone off-air until tomorrow evening. Those that are still broadcasting are producing occasion appropriate programming.

On every visiting dignitary’s itinerary on a visit to Israel, is a trip to Yad Vashem. Every soldier in the army learns why he or she is defending her country, through seminars and programs at the Holocaust memorial museum. Every child named for someone lost in the Holocaust learns the origins of their name and is compelled to live up to the merits of their name. And every touring trip spends time at Yad Vashem. The goal is that there not to be a single person in this country, a single person in this world, that does not know of the atrocities committed by the Nazis.

So it is, for these 24 hours, that every Israeli will remember why we have a state - and will forever need a state. We will acknowledge the sad fact that had Israel existed before the Second World War, we may not have needed to commemorate today. And following the national memorial service on television, we will pray the Kaddish, the prayer for the dead.

The siren. The memorial service. The interruption of radio and television broadcasts. The ceremonies. The closing of restaurants and businesses. The two minutes of silence in the morning. A nation praying together for those it lost. The sudden and complete stopping of daily life when the siren sounds. That is how this people remembers its tragedy.