The morning after my fourth-grade teacher
taught my class about the Holocaust
(how Christians like Mom were safe, Jews

like Dad were sent to camps in cattle cars)
I approached my father,
who, without asking directly,

seemed to know my question.
I can still see him sitting in his blue
upholstered chair, reading the local

tribune. How quickly, without
hesitation, he said:  You’re Jewish
enough. They would have killed you, too.