By Rabbi Barbara Aiello I am a first generation American. My Italian dad came from war-weary Europe to make his way in America. He traveled with all the essentials, which in those days were two suitcases, a shopping bag and a crumpled shred of paper with the address...
By Rabbi Barbara Aiello “It’s always a good day when my grandson comes to visit!” Lillian’s smile said it all as she gave a quick wave to her friends. “I’ve got to rush. Kyle loves kugel so I’m making it for him and his friend, Joe.” Lillian got to work and just like...
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