"Tell me a story" is a constant refrain for those of us with children in our lives. Almost as often, when the last page is turned, the child looks up and asks, "again?" Sometimes, this is a joy. Sometimes, re-reading, and re-reading some more, becomes a burden.
In the many years (57 to be exact) that I have been in an interfaith marriage, I felt somehow removed from antisemitism. I was raised in a Roman Catholic family, and, while there were a few comments from aunts and uncles when I got engaged, it was the 1960s, and I was in love. I believed we would figure it out as we went along.