Orly Fuerst |
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 Orly Fuerst was born in Israel and raised in the US. She has a Master's in Education, and spends most of her day chasing her five kids and wishing she had more time to write, while dreading the day when she will no longer be needed to chase her kids.
I demand of my heart, no tears at Auschwitz.
Who hears him cry? Does he know? He doesn't remember having daughters.
It is the timeless question. Is the glass half full, or is it just half empty. Do the bad times define a person, or just how we we handle them?
It is impossible to turn on the TV or open a newspaper without being bombarded with tragic news. But the miracles, they are a little harder to notice...
Confronting Antisemitism in 2009
She comes closer; her finger is waving inches from my face. "I can tell," she rants, "from your hair covering and your necklace (a Star of David) you're not an American..."
Having a Baby in My Forties
"You're going to be the grandma in the park," a distant aunt said when she heard I was pregnant again. "Oh, was it an accident?" a neighbor questioned, looking at the ground sadly. They didn't know. They didn't know about the three back-to-back miscarriag...
Daddy, where are you from? I prod gently, a brilliant mind that is quickly fading, being eaten by a disease called Alzheimer's. An amazing physician my father was, cutting into newborn's hearts to save them...
Postcard upon postcard asking to please send a little sugar, a little butter, some warm socks. It gets cold at night. Frania wants a doll, please don't send a doll. There is no room in the ghetto for a doll...
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