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Of Matzah Balls and Memories
I stood in front of the open refrigerator door, peering intently inside as if the multi-layered plastic containers filled with left-overs were going to give me the answer to my question. THE question,...
View ArticleThe Rose
“Click, click, click.” Nonnie, my beloved maternal grandmother, was never far away from her knitting bag. She carried it with her to the beauty parlor where, sitting under the dryer, she could knit...
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