Every Shabbat, I Light Candles for a Girl Who Died of Polio
by Lynne Sandler Two things have stayed with me from childhood. The first is a memory: I was sick with measles and struggling to breathe. My father took my hand and placed it on his chest so I could match my breathing to his until I was able to sleep. The second is a pair of silver candlesticks. They tell a harder story. In the 1940s, getting sick was just part of childhood.
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