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Sara Fryd
520-909-0270
sfryd@yahoo.com

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A Library for Cracow

I belong to a Holocaust Survivors email list that travels around the globe online helping Survivors find other Survivors.  More than six years ago I received an email about a young man who wanted to start a library in Cracow, Poland and needed help filling the shelves with Jewish books.  Seems he was raised Christian to save his life.  Finding out [...]

My Friend a Daddy

Everyday, somewhere a child  

          stares out a window

Waiting…

          for Dad to come home.

It doesn’t matter what kind of work he does

          (though a fireman or race car driver would be great).

It doesn’t matter how much money he makes

          (though getting a new bike is better than not).

It doesn’t matter how tall he is or [...]

Donuts on Dorrance Street

*Give a warm welcome to guest author Ed  Medeiros

All rights reserved.  ©2010 by Ed  Medeiros

I could go on about the guy who was soda jerk at the largest department store in Rhode Island. How ever spring my Mother would drag me to this store to get new clothes as was the custom with Portuguese people at Easter time, [...]

Papa Pirate

He was part pirate

Benny, Sara, Nusha

Part protector, all black marketeer

Observant, deceptive, courageous

And in this life, he might have been

A CIA agent, a CEO, or Sean Connery

In Gold Finger

But it was then, and that was that

Choices none, so…

He wooed them – Nusha and Raia

With potatoes and chocolates

Because he could not find food

For trade or barter

Though [...]

Heart Conversations

Yiddish was our language.  It was the only common known language Jews spoke to each other throughout Europe.  There were two dialectics – Litvak and Glitzeaner.  Mom spoke one, I spoke the other.   I had two names – Sarinou and Saralle (sweet Sara and little Sara).  Mom and I spoke only Yiddish to each other.  [...]

Bereavement on a Bike

*Give a warm welcome to guest author Jeff Sambur who can be reached at Jeff Sambur <jeffsambur@gmail.com>.

All rights reserved.  ©2010 by Jeff Sambur

In November 2008, I traveled east from Colorado to New York City to see my almost- 90-year old, cancer-ridden father.   The purpose of the visit was to make peace with my dad, for there [...]

Murder of a Child’s Soul

            Once…

I was witness to a crime.

A crime perpetrated by a Mother

Upon her children

In the name of justice. 

            Feelings… 

She couldn’t deal with

She tossed aside

Like laundry thrown in hampers

Used, dreary, dingy…

Dumped them instead

On her children

So they could bleed for her.  

There’s no strength

In staying a victim

In collapsing on your children’s souls

Without their permission.

            Abuse…

Like verbal rocks

Through picture [...]

The Past Cries Out Loud

He is sick now

Just like she dictated everyday,

And at forty-seven

He looks eighty.

He tries to care

To get by

Like the rest of us

But schizophrenia gets in his way.

Leftover from a childhood

He sometimes puts aside.

Sometimes…

            But hardly ever forgets.

 

And I remember standing

In the corner of

A whisper green living room

At midnight

Scared to death.

His older sister

Only twelve myself

Couldn’t save him

            [...]