ב"ה
Aviva Ravel |
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In my mother’s house on Shabbat candles glowed, In my mother’s house on Shabbat music flowed, All the troubles of the week seemed to disappear, But in my mother’s eye there was a tear In my mother’s house on Shabbat prayers were said In my mother’s house ...
I had carried children to the underground shelters and sang cheerful songs to them while guns fired across the hills. I had cleaned public washrooms, scrubbed thousands of floors, scoured gigantic greasy pots . . . A little thing like losing a baby should...
When the street was wrapped in darkness and our mothers’ voices called us in a discordant chorus to come home for supper, Rachel rose, took one last look at the street, and disappeared inside her flat. No one raised their eyes to speak to her; it was as i...
She noticed immediately the blank oblong space once occupied by the mezuzah. To prevent herself from commenting, she bit hard on her lip, then summoned Miriam to receive her Chanukah presents...
Remembering my Father
“Don’t say that,” our father said, shaking his forefinger. “Mr. Malamud is all alone in the world. His children, his family, everyone went before him. It’s a curse I don’t wish on no one.”
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