A week before Anzac Day in 2009, I did "Lest we forget" Art Exhibition in Hamilton NZ, at the Arts Post Gallery. There was the usual hype around the exhibition, as there were other artists and families as well. A sizeable crowd turned out and the food and wine was flowing. I had 8 to 10 paintings depicting war scenes involving iconic battles as well as info on Anzac Day. As I moved around the gallery. I noticed a little old lady standing in front of my huge painting of NZ soldiers WW1, with gas mask on. She was sobbing and there were tears were rolling down her face. I immediately tried to comfort her and said I was sorry for any pain my picture had caused. She looked at me and said i want to burn your painting, I hate it. I was taken by surprise and offered her a cuppa tea, she agreed and held my arm. We sat down in the corner of the gallery. She looked at me and said, I was a war orphan from Poland, during the war. I was made to work in the concentration camp by the Germans. My whole family was taken away never to be seen again. The German guards would play a sick game with us kids, they would lock us in the gas chamber and throw a smoke grenade in the room. To us kids we knew it was the end because they would put on the gas mask and laugh while peering through a glass window. We didn't know if it was gas or not. We were all crying and screaming, it was terrible. I survived the war and was relocated to NZ. I swore to never speak to anyone about my past, even my Husband and family did not know. I held her hand and I felt sad, she then gave me a big hug and thanked me for releasing the anger and guilt that she had been carrying inside for so long. My grand daughter likes art,  I did not want to come,  Im glad I did. We spoke a bit more, before her grand daughter came looking for her, she gave me a long hug, then she left, I never saw her again. "Aroha mai"