Ode to My Three Daughters
When I gave birth to my three perfect baby daughters, each born almost two years apart, little did I think what they would be like when they themselves would become mothers.
When I gave birth to my three perfect baby daughters, each born almost two years apart, little did I think what they would be like when they themselves would become mothers.
Memory becomes less retentive, sometimes drifting in the shadows. There’s a hole in my heart that remains constant.
“And the old woman forgot to die” was a memorable sentence in a book by Lisa See. I had a grandmother about whom one could have said that sentence.
On a recent Saturday morning, I felt the slight touch of a hand on my face. It was Jackson, our seven-year-old grandson, with a big smile on his cheery face.
On January 27, 2014, the world commemorated International Holocaust Remembrance Day, marking the day in January 1945 when Soviet troops liberated the Auschwitz camp complex in German-occupied Poland.
I’d like to share about a very meaningful day at the Museum, April 10, 2024. A group of survivors were asked to meet with a visiting photographer to participate in an ongoing project.
I think of myself now as a survivor of the Holocaust. This was not always the case.
For many years when we talked about family history, we had a few stories we always told.
When the German army went against the Soviet Union, the Hungarian army followed.
You learn many things in life, and from many people, but never as much as from the people who raise you.