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Adèle sometimes used to take me to church in Montrouge, where I made the same gestures as she did…gestures which didn’t seem to me to be very different from those required by pure politeness…the hand…
Ever since she had sent the letter to Toronto, Fumiko had been a bundle of nerves. Would George Brady write back? Will he help us to know Hana? Even the letter carrier who…
I have a great coat. I have round black eyes. I have a cap. I raise my hands. I am the boy whose hands are raised in the picture.
The Mother enters, carrying the dead Child in her arms; approaches the pile.The Mother:Hello, dead children.I brought my son here.He’s dead. He’ll lie with you.Dead Children:You brought…
How is a song born?
Like a baby.
At first it hurts
But then, it comes out
And everyone is happy
And suddenly—
How wonderful!
It’s walking
All on its own.
How is a song born?
Like…
It is possible, it is very possible, that here it is impossible to live, but here we must remain, here we must die, sleep…there is no other place…—Y. H. Brenner
How shall I bless him and what will this child be blessed with? asked the angel. Life—so it emerges from the song lyric—was among the options of the angel’s blessing. But after all, angels don’t exist…
In the city of Warsaw such a long time ago
Two hundred children stand lined row on row
With their freshly washed faces and freshly washed clothes
The children of Poland who never grow old
In the…
In 1915, photographer Léon Gimpel began spending time with a group of children he had encountered in the Rue de Grenata neighborhood in Paris. It was during World War I, and the boys’ favorite…
Listen, Jewish children, and I will tell you a story about a penknife. It’s not a made-up story, but a true story that really happened to me. There was nothing on earth I yearned for as much as I…