Hitler and What he was to Me.

Smiling at the happy ending in the book I was currently reading I put it down. The story stayed in my mind for a long time, the parts replying itself in my head. However, my thoughts were in a conflict, my previous beliefs being  questioned.  

                I always admired Hitler for his bravery, his leadership, his way of carrying himself. I know, know well all the atrocities he committed and I didn’t respect him for that. But I truly admired the way he had the whole country in his fingertips, the world dreading the short man with a silly mustache.  He brought the shattered Germany back to a stable form, he reformed may things.  He did his part of good things.  However, am I right in admiring a man who caused the death of innumerable innocent?

    The book I had been reading described his anarchy in depth, the emotions and hatred towards the war depicted in detail by the protagonist who was a victim under his rule. Even though the story was fiction his crimes where the same, his evil plans for the Jews having the same effect. The hatred I felt for him throughout the story was real and I couldn’t help feeling guilty for having admired him. He was bad. He did things not right. What kind of leader is the cause of killing of people in cold blood just because they were Jews? What kind of revolutionary man does that? He wasn’t great, he hid from his true fears behind the wrongs he did. His bad outbalanced his good. As I put these words down, my thoughts are arranged. I know whom I look up to and whom I don’t. I know the why for it now.

                A simple story changed my thoughts and viewpoints. Maybe this is the strength of words woven in perfection.