How can I do this? How can I carry everything?
But there’s a line. I would never insist that my little daughter hand over her prized possession for a pal to play with.
Save the applause, pick up your jaws—Guinness Book, here we come.
“Nana, when are you going back to Auschwitz?” I guess that on some level, I knew.
For the first time in my life, I prayed for a miracle.