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For the first fifteen years of our lives, Danny and I lived within five blocks of each other and neither of us knew of the other’s existence. [ . . . ]
Danny and I probably would never have met—or we…
I was standing in the park under that tree. They call it the Hanging Elm. Once upon a time it made a big improvement on all kinds of hooligans. Nowadays if, once in a while…No. So this woman comes up…
“You found the victim?”
She nodded.
“Was she conscious at the time?”
“Yes. Baruch Hashem.”
“Pardon?”
“Nothing. Mrs. Adler was conscious.”
“That’s fine,” Decker said. He faced the uniforms. “Cordon off…
I was out of the cavern no more than a minute, taking a last look around the square at the minarets, the moon, the domes, the Wall, when someone was shouting at me, “It’s you!”
Standing in my path was…
[…] There I am, a kid in Chicago. Not from a particularly religious family. On top of the world, in the middle of the middle class. Ten years old and an only child. The war over half a decade and the…
[…] What rabbi would come to this impoverished nowhere for the pishochs we offered, especially if he had to rent his own lodgings—the congregation had no money for an apartment when a perfectly good…
“I am Mother of all the tribe,” she said with dignity. “These”—she indicated the women about her—“are mothers of the clans. You may speak—openly. Why is the birth of a male child cause for…
The Painter had a different personality. A tiny Polish Jew, he was famous as a creator of wonderful whimsical animals. He said:
“For my part I wanted to use stained glass. But the architect says we…
Illustrations from Leslie Kimmelman’s children’s book, The Runaway Latkes, illustrated by Paul Yalowitz. This Hanukkah story describes latkes that come to life and escape their oily fate.
At the end, after the thermonuclear war between the Djanks and Druzhkies, in consequence of which they had destroyed themselves, and, madly, all other inhabitants of the earth, God spoke through a…