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The heder was in the basement. It was a dark, damp room with a low ceiling. There were two windows on the ground level. In the middle of the room, there was a long wooden table covered with books, two…
I came to say good-bye. I was going away to the University of Missouri. My grandfather turned from the window at which he sat, looking across the lots at the parkway. To eyes used to…
At the time of the shortest, sleepy winter days, edged on both sides with the furry dusk of mornings and evenings, when the city reached out ever deeper into the labyrinth of winter nights, and was…
Johannes pushed his cart laden with fruit and vegetables. He pushed with difficulty for his route lay uphill. Automobiles rushed past him, hooting insolently, demanding the road. Awkwardly he turned…
Great was the joy in the mid-1950s in Budapest’s Klauzál Square, in the house of a widow with many children. Those lining up before her vegetable stand in the market saw her smile for the first time…
Within a few weeks the season arrived for merry walks in the marvelous woods, gay boat rides on the river, poetic campfires beneath dark, satiny skies, boisterous breachings of the silence of the…
De Vriendt shut the door, but stayed with his forehead pressed against it; the strength had gone out of him. This Englishman knew. He knew the nature of his relation to…
My name is Benillouche, Alexandre Mordekhai.
How galling the smiles of my classmates! In our alley, and at the Alliance School, I hadn’t known how ridiculous, how revealing, my name could be…
“. . . Are you Jewish?”
“Of course, I am. I went to South America to escape persecution, not to enjoy the pleasant climate.”
“Well, I’m neither a practicing Jew nor a Zionist. In fact, I dislike any…
At her meeting with the associate dean, Edith Margareten asked the administrator, a woman in her mid-40s, about the climate for Jews at Notre Dame. “Oh, it’s fine,” she said. “I’m Methodist myself.”
“…