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Kaddish: (Aramaic, lit. “holy”); brief prayer recited by a mourner or by the chazan
Without ten men, the Amida, the eighteen universal prayers, with a 19th thrown in for extra measure, could not be said out loud. Without ten men, Michael Fein, the richest Jew in town and president of the synagogue, could not say kaddish, the mourner's pr...
"I could not feel worse than I already feel, Rebbetzin," Or explained. "When I spoke to her last, she was in the hospital..."
Yisroel stood in the doorway, cheeks and nose bright red from the cold, snow encrusting his thick brown bangs. “My mother is still not here, and I’m frozen. Can I wait inside?”
I first heard of Sammy Rosenbaum in 1965, when a Mrs. Rawicz from Rabka came into my office in Vienna to testify at a War Crimes trial
I first met the family some seven years ago, when I was called to perform a bris on their newborn son.
When I visit my parents’ graves, I am usually at a loss, unsure what to say and what to do. Are there prayers I should be saying? Should I be reading Psalms, and if so, which ones? Do I have a chat with them? What do I say?
“Baseball is like poetry,” Dad would say, where innings become rhythms of pace and pause. Father and son, side by side, the diamond before us.
A child’s memories of life in Soviet Russia
They commanded Father to dress and come with them. Father came to my small bed, bent down, and gave me a kiss, long and painful. Tears—big ones, hot ones, blazing ones—rolled off his cheek and onto my forehead.
Crystallizing slowly over time in the old man’s soul was the singular obligation of telling the story of that child’s last moments.
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