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“It was my fault, Sammy. I aggravate you when you’re tired,” she said, sitting up and drawing his head to her. “I shouldn’t even have mentioned Ev. We ought to go to your family this year. It’s only…
A medieval rabbi barely escapes from a blood libel accusation at his own Seder table in this prescient nineteenth-century story by the famous German Romantic poet Heinrich Heine.
Grandfather scurries from cupboard to cupboard in his black coat; he looks in every corner, checking for bread crumbs in my treasure drawer, under my crystals and shells. He rummages through…