ב"ה
Ann Goldberg |
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![]() I don't know why my parents chose my Hebrew name, but I do know why they called me Ann.
He scoured the shops nearby and bought anything that was kosher and edible, and then went into a bookshop to buy some reading material to while away the many free, friendless and family-less hours he would be spending alone in his room.
On that life-changing Friday afternoon in 1939, no one had any idea that Shefford would be their home for six long years.
I was there six days a week for several weeks. No exceptions. It was made quite clear to me that no matter how terrible I felt, I had to have radiation every day.
"There’s this amazing woman, Mom, and she takes care of all the soldiers. Her name’s ‘Doda (Aunty) Mary.’ "
It has to be simple and unadorned, but its significance is far from simple.
She was recuperating from an operation for a broken leg, and though she had been experiencing some occasional breathing problems since the operation, there had been no indication that anything was wrong, apart from her inability to walk.
“Seventy-five years ago, I said this at my grandparents’ Passover table. But since then, I have never heard it until tonight...
As he walked through the long grass, something shiny caught his eye. He bent down and picked up a fragment of china. The most startling thing about the shard was the swastika which formed part of the design.
I stood there like a fool, with tears rolling down my cheeks. Had I forgotten? My baby is getting married...
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