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There was once a Jew who had been wandering for hundreds of years in search of his death.
By David SlabotskyOctober 2018That this trip isn’t the stupidest thing he’ll ever do / That they won’t drive one mile before she asks, Where are we going? three times / That she’ll ask why can’t she drive anymore
By Michael MarkOctober 2018Brother Sends Mysterious Text (And Woman’s Life Changes Overnight) / How To Drink Your Way Through The First Few Days Of Mourning / Looking For Last-Minute Airfare Deals From Las Vegas To Cleveland?
By Cindy KingOctober 2018— from “Falling From The Sky” | When we found out our daughter had gone deaf, / I did not question God’s fairness
By Yehoshua NovemberOctober 2018After World War II Congress voted to allow thousands of European war refugees into the U.S. Whenever a ship carrying these “displaced persons,” as they were called, came into New York City, Kalischer would go to the harbor to take pictures of the new arrivals. He had come here as a refugee himself not long before, at the age of twenty-one, and he recognized the fear and expectation in the faces of the men, women, and children.
By Clemens KalischerOctober 2018A low-grade, persistent terror plagued me throughout the summer before sixth grade, because in June I’d found out I was to spend the next year in Rabbi Friedberg’s class at my Orthodox Jewish Hebrew school.
By Ezra ZonanaOctober 2018It is one thing to be bad with money when you have it, and quite another to be bad with it when you don’t. My mother gave away what little she had, mostly because she had been taught that every poor person she met was the Lord in disguise, testing her love.
By Doug CrandellOctober 2018At 3 AM my eyes snap open. It’s been about fifteen hours since my last fix, and I’m already edging into withdrawal. With a sigh I get out of bed and head down to the basement to make a cup of tea from my store of opium poppies.
By Alan CraigOctober 2018Our God is the God of the widow and the orphan and the stranger, a God who says, “If you harm them, their cries will reach me.”
By Laura Esther WolfsonOctober 2018September 2018I learned a history not then written in books but one passed from generation to generation on the steps of moonlit porches and beside dying fires in one-room houses, a history of great-grandparents and of slavery and of the days following slavery; of those who lived still not free, yet who would not let their spirits be enslaved.
Mildred D. Taylor
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