Only a few pages from the end. It’s been quite a journey. Should self give this memoir four or five stars? Somewhere in between.
What is life, anyway? What is it? Isn’t it being rooted to a place, to one particular place? That’s how you “grow” a history, isn’t it?
- Like many immigrants, I am bound to watch my child grow farther away from me, away from my traditions, my language, and my memories of an Israeli childhood she will never know.
Thanks, and peace, Ayelet.