SINGLE PAPERBACK, PART OF THE JEWISH IDENTITY SET

Growing up in a family of Holocaust survivors, Joan Haahr was aware from an early age of the devastation wrought by the Nazis and their sympathizers on Europe's Jewish population during the Holocaust. She also witnessed firsthand the dysfunctions that plagued many of those who had made it out alive. In Prisoners of Memory, Haahr realizes her lifelong ambition to uncover the stories behind the statistics in the Nazi records and learn as much as possible about the pre-war lives, deportations, and deaths of her grandparents and other close family members. Devoting herself fully to this project after retiring from her academic career, Haahr delves into troves of family letters, takes part in numerous conversations with those directly and indirectly affected by World War II, and gathers information from contacts in Germany, archives, and other historical research. In doing so, she seeks to understand the enduring legacy of tragedy as well as of perseverance and hope in the generations that followed the Holocaust in the United States and elsewhere.

An intimate and profoundly moving Jewish family history—a story of displacement, prejudice, hope, despair, and love. In this luminous memoir, award-winning New York Times columnist Roger Cohen turns a compassionate yet discerning eye on the legacy of his own forebears. As he follows them across continents and decades, mapping individual lives that diverge and intertwine, vital patterns of struggle and resilience, valued heritage and evolving loyalties (religious, ethnic, national), converge into a resonant portrait of cultural identity in the modern age. Beginning in the nineteenth century and continuing through to the present day, Cohen tracks his family’s story of repeated upheaval, from Lithuania to South Africa, and then to England, the United States, and Israel. It is a tale of otherness marked by overt and latent anti-Semitism, but also otherness as a sense of inheritance. We see Cohen’s family members grow roots in each adopted homeland even as they struggle to overcome the loss of what is left behind and to adapt—to the racism his parents witness in apartheid-era South Africa, to the familiar ostracism an uncle from Johannesburg faces after fighting against Hitler across Europe, to the ambivalence an Israeli cousin experiences when tasked with policing the occupied West Bank. At the heart of The Girl from Human Street is the powerful and touching relationship between Cohen and his mother, that “girl.” Tortured by the upheavals in her life yet stoic in her struggle, she embodies her son’s complex inheritance. Graceful, honest, and sweeping, Cohen’s remarkable chronicle of the quest for belonging across generations contributes an important chapter to the ongoing narrative of Jewish life.

Perfect for fans of the Caldecott Honor Book The Gardener by Sarah Stewart and David Small, here’s a heartwarming spring picture book about gardening and friendship. Every day, Honey tends her garden, thinning the lettuces, pulling up beets, and even singing to the kale. (Honey says if you listen carefully, you can hear the kale singing back!) Laurel, the little girl who lives next door, likes to help, weeding the rows, washing vegetables under the pump, and gathering speckled eggs from the chicken coop. But one day there is a FOR SALE sign in Honey's front yard. Honey's mother is sick, and she is moving away! What will happen to Honey's garden? And what will Laurel do without her friend? Here is a touching story that beautifully illustrates how friendship—just like a garden—grows. Praise for Swan: The Life and Dance of Anna Pavlova by Laurel Snyder: "Spare, poetic words sit as lightly as snowflakes." —The Wall Street Journal

This is the English translation of the Memorial or Yizkor Book of the Jewish Community of Yurburg, Lithuania, originally published in 1991 in Hebrew and Yiddish. It also has an additional new 150-page appendix containing new material collected since the publication of the original book. Contains many new photographs to enhance the original book.

In 2009, Rachael Cerrotti, a college student pursuing a career in photojournalism, asked her grandmother, Hana, if she could record her story. Rachael knew that her grandmother was a Holocaust survivor and the only one in her family alive at the end of the war. Rachael also knew that she survived because of the kindness of strangers. It wasn’t a secret. Hana spoke about her history publicly and regularly. But, Rachael wanted to document it as only a granddaughter could. So, that’s what they did: Hana talked and Rachael wrote. Upon Hana’s passing in 2010, Rachael discovered an incredible archive of her life. There were preserved albums and hundreds of photographs dating back to the 1920s. There were letters waiting to be translated, journals, diaries, deportation and immigration papers as well as creative writings from various stages of Hana’s life. Rachael digitized and organized it all, plucking it from the past and placing it into her present. Then, she began retracing her grandmother’s story, following her through Central Europe, Scandinavia, and across the United States. She tracked down the descendants of those who helped save her grandmother’s life during the war. Rachael went in pursuit of her grandmother’s memory to explore how the retelling of family stories becomes the history itself. We Share the Same Sky weaves together the stories of these two young women—Hana as a refugee who remains one step ahead of the Nazis at every turn, and Rachael, whose insatiable curiosity to touch the past guides her into the lives of countless strangers, bringing her love and tragic loss. Throughout the course of her twenties, Hana’s history becomes a guidebook for Rachael in how to live a life empowered by grief.

* Winner of the National Book Critics Circle Award * Silver Medal Society of Illustrators * * Named a Best Book of the Year by The New York Times, The Boston Globe, San Francisco Chronicle, NPR, Comics Beat, The Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel, Kirkus Reviews, and Library Journal This “ingenious reckoning with the past” (The New York Times), by award-winning artist Nora Krug investigates the hidden truths of her family’s wartime history in Nazi Germany. Nora Krug was born decades after the fall of the Nazi regime, but the Second World War cast a long shadow over her childhood and youth in the city of Karlsruhe, Germany. Yet she knew little about her own family’s involvement; though all four grandparents lived through the war, they never spoke of it. After twelve years in the US, Krug realizes that living abroad has only intensified her need to ask the questions she didn’t dare to as a child. Returning to Germany, she visits archives, conducts research, and interviews family members, uncovering in the process the stories of her maternal grandfather, a driving teacher in Karlsruhe during the war, and her father’s brother Franz-Karl, who died as a teenage SS soldier. In this extraordinary quest, “Krug erases the boundaries between comics, scrapbooking, and collage as she endeavors to make sense of 20th-century history, the Holocaust, her German heritage, and her family's place in it all” (The Boston Globe). A highly inventive, “thoughtful, engrossing” (Minneapolis Star-Tribune) graphic memoir, Belonging “packs the power of Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home and David Small’s Stitches” (NPR.org).

This poignant memoir by Noah Lederman, the grandson of Holocaust survivors, transports readers from his grandparents’ kitchen table in Brooklyn to World War II Poland. In the 1950s, Noah’s grandparents raised their children on Holocaust stories. But because tales of rebellion and death camps gave his father and aunt constant nightmares, in Noah’s adolescence Grandma would only recount the PG version. Noah, however, craved the uncensored truth and always felt one right question away from their pasts. But when Poppy died at the end of the millennium, it seemed the Holocaust stories died with him. In the years that followed, without the love of her life by her side, Grandma could do little more than mourn. After college, Noah, a travel writer, roamed the world for fifteen months with just one rule: avoid Poland. A few missteps in Europe, however, landed him in his grandparents’ country. When he returned home, he cautiously told Grandma about his time in Warsaw, fearing that the past would bring up memories too painful for her to relive. But, instead, remembering the Holocaust unexpectedly rejuvenated her, ending five years of mourning her husband. Together, they explored the memories—of Auschwitz and a half-dozen other camps, the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, and the displaced persons camps—that his grandmother had buried for decades. And the woman he had playfully mocked as a child became his hero. I was left with the stories—the ones that had been hidden, the ones that offered catharsis, the ones that gave me a second hero, the ones that resurrected a family, the ones that survived even death. Their shared journey profoundly illuminates the transformative power of never forgetting.

Heidi Neumark’s life changed when a few computer keystrokes exposed generations of family secrets, raising questions she could not answer: How did she never know of her grandfather’s murder? Or that her grandmother was a death-camp survivor? Why had the family history and faith been hidden? What did this mean for her work as a pastor, community organizer, and advocate with marginalized and oppressed communities? Seeking answers to these questions, Heidi traveled across the ocean and into the depths of her soul to encounter a family and spiritual heritage she never knew she had. For any who have had secrets, closeted identities, and silence shape their lives, Heidi’s journey is more than a spellbinding memoir. It’s also a courageous call to discover what can happen when all that has been hidden is finally brought to life.