Broken Beginnings: Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen:

I sat in my room, tired from physical therapy, but not ready to sleep, instead I grabbed Bubbe’s journal, and looked at the photos I had of her, dating back to the year after the Holocaust though there had been one saved from her childhood, she had to have been about four or five, somehow the photo had survived all the years, the way the journal had. It had been nothing short of a miracle I knew that.