I love the book, And There Was Light, by Jacques Lusseyran.
One late Friday afternoon I found myself in a library corner devouring an old talk by Neal A Maxwell. I don't remember which talk it was, but I remember Maxwell quoting Lusseyran's books as one of his personal favorites. On a whim, I ran to the library catalogue to see if the same book was available. Check! I still remember sitting down with "And There Was Light" and feeling a thrill as I read the first lines. "As I remember it, my story always starts out as a fairy tale, not an unusual one, but still a fairy tale." I remember being devastated when the library bell rang, signaling closing time, and I discovered I'd left my library card at home. Don't judge me, but I purposely mis-shelved the book in a dark, seldom visited corner of the library so that I could come back the next day and finish it. I know a book is great when I think back on its stories, its lessons, its questions time and time again. This is that kind of book for me.
Although the story revolves around betrayal, Buchenwald, and blindness, it reads like poetry and radiates of light.