A child learns, almost instinctively, how to survive. In this conversation, Hava recalls her early childhood in wartime Europe—beginning in 1941, when the Germans entered Lviv. What emerges is not a single dramatic moment, but a series of quiet adaptations: speaking the “right” language, accepting a new name, moving between identities, and living for years separated from family.

“Their stories complicate accepted narratives about Jewish life before and during World War II.” That line comes close to the heart of the book—less about retelling history than about unsettling the versions we think we understand. Here’s the [...]

My sister Irit discovered a new document. It shows Michael to be a holder of a passport from a country [...]

Michael Rubin was my great-great uncle, the brother of my grandfather, Moshe Rubin. He was born in Lvov, Poland, in [...]

How many people you know tell stories of their elders’ penises outside of a therapist’s office? If not, I’ll go [...]