Imagine a conversation between two extraordinary women, separated by a thousand years, yet connected by acts of bravery and more than coincidental commonalities. Imagine that this dialogue transcends time, and links Queen Esther with Scheherazade, the Muslim woman who told stories for a thousand and one nights. This is the inspiration for Lynne Avadenka’s newest
We were on the first day of a two week car trip through Europe. My wife Jody and I and our three kids had packed the rented Nissan Almera full of our gear and were settling in for the three hour drive from the Milan airport to our bed and breakfast in Italy’s picturesque Lake
On a windswept, darkening afternoon in December 2000, I brushed the snow away from the marker of my mother’s grave. With each sweep of my gloved hand, the raised lettering of the simple plaque gradually became visible, showing her name, ELEANOR FREEDMAN, and the inscription our family had chosen: A SPECIAL PERSON. It had taken
I almost didn’t go to see Steven Spielberg’s latest film “Munich.” I wouldn’t have been alone in that decision; many of my friends had already refused to attend. The film was biased against Israel, bordering on anti-Semitic at worst; difficult and violent at best, they’d heard. In the end, journalistic and Zionist curiosity won out.
This is what happened. I was working at my machine, with only a few minutes left before the end of the day, I remember so clearly I can still see it, that I had only two right sleeves remaining in my pile -– my sister Pauline, she did the left sleeves and I did the
I grew up in a household of non-practicing Jews in Brooklyn, NY. The once a year Passover Seder was my only link to my heritage. In fact, I had no idea what the Seder was really about or why we did it. I just knew it was an obligatory family event. As I grew up
Every day there are at least thirty warnings for a terrorist attack in various areas of Israel. This is not 2002, the height of the intifada. This is today. Thank G-d, every one of these warnings are thwarted, but perhaps for a few each year. Israelis live in relative quiet because of the serious and
The silver spice box stood at the back of our mahogany sideboard. The box was tarnished, and the flag up top was bent over. As a child of six or seven, I would sit at the dining room table and spin the flag as I pictured the tiny princess who lived behind those silver filigree