He opened the doors wide
And took me inside

He pointed to some bags in a corner
" Those are filled with bones" he said

"Some have only skulls inside"

"The Ones with skulls
Are divided into those that are children's
And those that are adults"

"Those, in turn, are divided by gender
And also by age"

"Then there are the bags that contain
Different kinds of bones"

"Collar bones, ribs, arm bones, leg bones, etc."

"These are also divided by age and gender"

"You see, we must keep track of everything"
"We must not let anything be misplaced or forgotten"

His earnestness pierced his tears
As he pointed to another corner

"Over here, we have the drums," he said

"Each one contains a different body organ"

"Once again, these are divided into type, age, and gender"

"Some are filled with body fluids"

"Blood, bile, excrement"

"I wonder if they realize how much fluid a body contains?"
He said, almost in a whisper

"Oh, and over here we have the boxes that contain the hair"
"And these boxes contain the teeth"
"And here are the clothes, jewelry, dolls, etc"

"I hear this is what it was like in the Nazi concentration camps"
He slurred, out of the side of his mouth

"But, you know, there doesn't have to be a concentration camp
For there to be these kinds of remains"

"Every war leaves this kind of waste"

He stopped himself, at this point, and looked at the floor

"I'm sorry," he rasped

"I sometimes forget myself"

"I sometimes forget that these odds and ends were once human
Like you and I" "Not just waste material, but wasted life"

"There have been so many, and I've been doing this for so long"

"One almost has to see it all as 'just stuff' in order to get through it"

" Sometimes we have an accident, and one of the drums breaks open"
 
" Then the God awful stuff floods the floor"

"And the smell is so bad that many of us pass out"

"Then we have to go through and mop everything up
And check every drum, box, and bag for contamination"

"Contamination!" "Can you believe it?"

"How much more contaminated can anything be?"

As we reached the exit, at the other end of the building
I turned to my guide and, in the light of the doorway,
Saw his face, clearly, for the first time

It was a face of such sadness and fatigue
That I had to look down in embarrassment and shame

The weight that I saw being carried on the shoulders
Of this frail frame was almost more than I could bear

Suddenly, I wanted to take him in my arms
Stroke his forehead with gentle fingers
And whisper something comforting 
Until he dissolved into soft sleep

But then, he looked deeply into my eyes
And I felt he could see far into my very soul

I shrank before those shining eyes
Of wisdom, kindness, and ancient labor

Then he spoke

He spoke to the blood in my veins
He spoke to the air in my lungs
He spoke to the marrow in my bones

"Tell them," he whispered
"Tell them how hard it is to clean up their messes"
"Tell them how difficult it is to keep their precious things organized"
"Tell them how hard they make it for all of us"

"Tell them," he pleaded
"That they don't have to do this"
"They don't have to divide it all up like this"
"They can keep it together"
"They can honor the parts that make them whole"

"They can love the things that enable them to live"

"They can Love"

Then he turned away, closing the door behind him
And I was left standing there, alone