there are moments when I remember everything about my family’s past.  other times I can’t remember what i ate for lunch.  

Here is the story:

We sit down to a dinner at Etti and Gadis, and we know no one at the table.  The man next to us introduces holds out his hand and introduces himself, “Avi Pevsner.”  I find myself responding “Pevsner…your father saved my parents’ lives.”  He doesn’t know what to say, but I feel he is worried about spending an entire evening with this mad woman.  “Danzig, August, 1939.  He got them out just before the Nazi’s invaded.” 

“Yes,” he says, “I was born in Danzig.  My father was in charge of the Jewish Agency there.” 

Every detail he told me about his family’s escape sparked a memory in me, not only that moment, but the whole night long – especially when the alarms of rockets from Gaza and Yemen broke up my sleep.