Musings
This is my child and she needs and needs and needs. I can’t look at her. I can’t look at myself
Musings
“Look at him, at him, behind the stained shirt and missing teeth, and you can’t help loving him, he’s another Jew”
Musings
But today and yesterday, five years after burying them, in my nightly half-sleep, those dreams came to me, taunting, “What will be with you, Bracha?”
Musings
This year I’m not looking for much at all, thank goodness. You know, just health, happiness, sustenance. The usual
Musings
I opened the cover now the way I’d greet a long-lost friend, holding my breath and wondering what I’d remember
