Don Iudá

Humberto Costantini

1967

Just then Don Iudá took off his coat and greeted us one by one. My mother, out of breath as we’d been in such a hurry to come, explained everything in short choppy phrases.

We children would stay there. She and my father would go back. My father was a shoḥet and it seems that because he held the office of ritual slaughterer, he was especially hated…

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