He could not recall how old he was when he was separated from his parents. But he did remember this: That he was stripped of his clothes; that his head was shaved; that he took showers in a large room with children he did not know; that the showers were cold. He remembered that he was deeply confused and acutely frightened. He remembered lying alone in his bunk night after night, crying silently, wondering when his parents would return. What he could not recall was how many nights he spent curled beneath a thin blanket in that bunk, crying and…

Lauren Rosenfeld

Pink-haired mystical mama of four, finding miracles in the mundane. Writes about the sacred messiness of life. Author of “Breathing Room” and “Your To Be List”.

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