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Martha Jadassohn had come with her parents from a small West Poznanian town, named either Bobst or Meseritz, to Berlin where her father’s only sister, a widow, was living alone…
Aron maintained confident hope in one child. To this day, it remains uncertain whether or not this hope was fulfilled, but you can’t talk to him about it.The transport that led from the Bohemian…
But all this came to an end one night. In almost every one of his novels, Warszawski retells the scene in the winter of 1944 when he came home at three o’clock in the morning, after a night of dancing…
Citizen Voli Brener
A Moscow snowy morning, sun-streaked and dry. When it falls on a Sunday, the morning shines with a thousand Moscow sparkles—rejuvenating white lights that charm and shimmer, as if…
The Israelites spent the rest of the day celebrating this festival of thanksgiving in their homes as a second Purim, with tears of sadness and joy, and by the time the sun set, the…
Something is wrong between me and the story I want to write. Whatever subject I touch on, after five or four, sometimes even two pages, either the story throws me out or I throw myself out. As if I…
We couldn’t be Jews, my brother finally explained, raising his voice, because our grandmother had not been Jewish, and for Jews only your mother counts. We weren’t even half-Jewish, because our father…