I was 10 years old. My father left us and moved to the United States from Winnipeg, leaving my mother, my 6-year-old sister and me destitute. After spending a bitter Canadian winter and spring with friends, we moved into my mother’s parents’ home in Minneapolis.
I was raised in a world of great Jewish ideas. At our seder table, everyone’s questions were welcome. No one was labeled “wicked” or “simple,” and no one was silenced.
In the 1950’s, the renowned journalist Edward R. Murrow solicited brief statements from people across America, great and ordinary alike, in a project called, “This I Believe.”