My Mameleh

<p lang=EN-GB><span data-contrast=auto lang=EN-GB>It was late dark and cold. The little band of travelers were huddled together on the bench of an old train hoping to escape the tightening Nazi noose. Suddenly they heard the conductor's loud voice Vos papiers s'il vous plaît! (Papers please!). My mother's identity card had been stamped not once but twice with the word Juif. She knew that her life and that of her friends now rested in the palms of a stranger a government official whose job it was to hand them over to the Germans.</span><span data-ccp-props='{201341983:0335559739:160335559740:259}'> </span></p><p lang=EN-GB><br></p><p lang=EN-GB><span data-contrast=auto lang=EN-GB>This is one of the many miraculous escapes found throughout this book. It is a story of survival not just from the Holocaust but from old world poverty broken love and a tenuous peace in order to finally achieve the American Dream.</span><span data-ccp-props='{201341983:0335559739:160335559740:259}'> </span></p>