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The Misnomer The Misnomer S. L. Ramirez 79 Please don't call us Jews by Choice would anyone willingly, willfully choose to walk with those who live this faith that others despise? who would in gladness set the table with silver and linens white enough to bum eyes bright with glorious roses and bread inviting, full and warm, beckoning to a feast offered weekly by the hunted? who would in triumph greet their Sabbath queen lighting the candles of gladness sensing that at any moment, any heart-breaking moment, crystal-shattering moment, their voice, their vision might suddenly be stilled to the pleasure of an unkind world's momentary madman? who would in victory hold aloft the winsome children of sweet celebration, to hear echoes of their bright halting voices, commemorate their entrance single file into long halls papered with their ancestors' weeping? who would choose to run with these foxes? only those who cannot free themselves of the truth they proclaim Call us then Jews by love, a rather insane love for if we had a choice, we would choose to be safe with the empty blank eyes of those who watch the trains snaking their way across the fluid borders of 1943. ...


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