As a child growing up in the Galut, I was not truly aware of that truth. I lived in Vienna, surrounded by a warm and embracing family, and that was my entire world. Was I different from anyone else in my class? Yes, I was. Did it disturb me? Not really, except for a few painful moments in elementary school when classmates hurled vintage Nazi curses at a boy who dared to keep his yarmulke on during our snack break.

But otherwise, we were content living in the city our parents chose for us, a place........

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