Tell Me Sweet Little Lies

A few months ago, I wrote in this entry about a story I'd read about a couple that had met during the Holocaust. He was imprisoned in a Nazi concentration camp; she was posing as a Christian in a village nearby. Each day, she went to the fence surrounding the camp and tossed him an apple. He called her his "angel girl."

As the story went, eventually he was moved to a different camp, and the two pretty much forgot about each other until years later, when they were set up on a blind date. He proposed marriage that very night, and today, many years later, the two are still married. The couple has told the story for many years and recently wrote a book together.

Usually one to listen to anything with a healthy dose of skepticism, I believed the couple's story because I wanted to believe it. What's wrong with believing in something beautiful and poetic once in awhile? But even I can't deny that truth is only occasionally stranger than fiction. And neither can the man who told the story: CNN reports today that he now admits it was made up.

Fake memoirs seem to be a growing trend these days, and I find it very disappointing. I almost feel pity for the people who think so little of their own personal stories that they need to make up fake ones so others will be interested. Call me a journalist (go ahead, I dare you), but I think we all have a good, true story to tell.

The man who told the story of the girl with the apples says now that he only wanted to bring hope and happiness to people. And, I suspect, to himself -- he is quoted as saying that in his dreams, the story will always be true. So while part of me feels angry at him for lying, the other part of me sort of understands. Especially now, when we are just winding down from the Christmas season (ironic as that may be, since the man is Jewish). It was only a week ago that, for the umpteenth time, I read and enjoyed a reprint of the classic letter proclaiming, "yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus."

So why can't there be an angel girl too? Things don't always have to be true to be believed. Besides, I think it is almost more poetic that the story that ended up being a lie has such an Adam and Eve-like quality to it. Maybe truth is stranger than fiction after all.