old city 88.
(photo credit: )
The last month may have been the most powerful of my life. I cried in the blood-stained fields of Auschwitz, returned home to the once golden and now pyrite paved roads of America, observed Passover with family and friends, remembered the fallen heroes who gave their lives for Israel, and celebrated the fulfillment of the Jewish people's dream to return to their homeland after thousands of years. My emotions have been varied, my thoughts jumbled and my perspectives broadened. And somewhere along the way, I found two of my heroes.
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