ABSTRACT
My earliest memory is my lying on a bed, drinking tea from a baby bottle, which must have seemed a treat. I was very young, about three. The location was a small apartment behind my grandfather’s kosher butcher shop in a poor Bronx neighborhood. My parents had separated, and my mother and I had moved in with her loving parents. My grandparents migrated in 1888 to New York City, coming from a part of the Austro-Hungarian empire that is now in Poland.
