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My mazel, however, has never yet helped me fill my bank account, my sheitel boxes, or my jewelry rolls

My heart sinks as I see the dates of our vacation and the performance coincide

She glances down at them and knows she can’t use them for the yearbook. They’re horrible, hideous even. How can she possibly be so ugly?

Bench or seven flights of stairs? I could wait for another bus. Or I could start walking home. Or… I could just sit here?

It’s important for her chinuch, I told myself, and I believed it. I still do

With tears rolling down my face, I tried again. “Zot ha’ima sheli. She’s my mother. Please let me in”