I am not yet able to make a closure and move on. My thoughts repeatedly return to the prison; I relive each of its scenes time and again. I cannot help it.
Prison transforms a human being in some fundamental way. The first thing I tell myself in retrospect is that for no earthly treasure would I give away the sufferings of these six years.
I was given an immense amount of gifts. I finished an education, graduated and now I hold a diploma on which it stands written: an improved human being.
I would have been a bad student of physics if I had not seen in my prison-life a basic law of modern atomic physics proven: “All matter is ultimately light.”
Today even voice can be pictured. Even that is light. We pick up a few grams of dust from the ground, we may precisely measure and calculate the energy its atomic particles could release. It has been proven that a city like Budapest with more than a million inhabitants could be provided with light and heating from the energy contained in a small amount of matter.
Thus, the second conclusion I come to is this: every piece of trash, no matter how riff-raff and valueless it is, can become light, eternal light, if God’s Sun shines on it and releases it from the burden of the horror of evil.
This is why I am unable to feel hatred toward those who have hurt me, those who tormented me. I hate none of these evil men.
I like to pray for them from the bottom of my heart, asking that they may convert and become good human beings.
With this I think I can come to a closure and finish all that I was able to tell about my six years spent in prison.