The answer is arbitrary: as elusive as a throw of the dice.
The rejection was painful, especially since we could not fathom why it developed. We wondered if we were at fault, what we had done, and how we could make amends.
I had a friend. When I was eight years old, I had a friend. Her name was Anni.
Le’ shana Tova Tikoteiv Vetichoteim
When my startled parents opened the door, the uniformed men yelled, “Verboten!” They told my parents to get out: napping in the car was not allowed. To emphasize their new rule, they slapped both my mother and father in the …
What I Have to Tell
Glucke mit Kücken, April 1928
You are invited to the book launch
This is what I HAVE to tell.
What I HAVE to Tell
Memory is a blessing and a curse.
A Grandmother’s Sorrow
May the last words of the victim surpass and outlast those of the killer.
When I left the voting booth, no soldiers in uniform were visible; no swastikas were in sight. I was safe. My vote was secret.
Like Eva, I had to travel alone to a place where I knew no one, leaving my friends, my family, and my home.