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It was Rabbi Benish’s practice to say his afternoon and evening prayers by himself in his study. When the news reached his ears he hurried to the prayer house. But it…
About Grzhebin on canvas, about Grzhebin in the flesh. Since the letter is written in a penitent mood, the trademark of the Grzhebin Publishing House is affixed. Here too are several…
We were too late. The pogrom erupted that very night, suddenly, like an exploding mine, and in my own neighborhood.
The first screams came to me confused, in a hazy dream. Then it dawned on me what…
[ . . . ] From the other side of the fence was heard a murmur of Jewish voices as of people praying aloud. On a carpet before the door of the courtyard sat Murad Khan, and…
For two months, enfolded from head to foot in crusted, freezing snow, we lay in the trenches on the Polish–Bolshevik front in White Russia. We lay about sleepily, suffering from fatigue, immobility…
He didn’t take it seriously the first few times his roommates suggested that he start peddling images of Jesus, of Yoshke, as he preferred to call him. He thought they were kidding. How could they be…
The war went on and would not be stopped. On the contrary. It proved futile to hold it to any schedule or limit. At no prearranged time would the land be quiet, not at harvest time, not near winter…
When “Papa” Gonta bore down on Tetayev at the head of his Cossack army in the summer of 1768, the little town had a strange look about it: the houses large and small stood desolate, their shutters…
Meg:Well—it’s very, very nice to be here tonight, in my house, and I want to propose a toast to Stanley, because it’s his birthday, and he’s lived here for a long while now, and he’s my Stanley now…
Nissim Levy dodged out through the back fence. He said goodbye to Danino, but instead of running away, he stood still, not far from there, and tried to pick up some words from the…