She travels clinging to the child in arms. She is alone. Her village is gone, her family is gone, her husband is gone, all swept away in the Nazi current of hate. One wonders, was the child the product of marriage, or rape? Yet whatever the origin, in Judaism the heritage is passed on through the mother. The child is hers. The child is Jewish. So off she goes, to God only knows where. She is barefoot. She walks in one direction; the wagon pulls in another. But they are alive, and together for now.
Description: Terra Cotta
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