
We Were Really Jewish. And Had a Christmas Tree.
December 19, 2016
It’s been more than 65 years, but through the mists of time. I remember its smell of evergreen as if it were yesterday.
Our apartment living room on Manhattan’s Upper West Side. A tiny blue wooden table where, to the joy of my tiny brother and me, my mother had placed a tiny Christmas tree.
Eventually we moved to the suburbs, where we had a bigger Christmas tree with presents underneath.