November 6, 2015
I was raised by a romantic mother who started me early on a rich diet of princesses and fairy tales. My earliest memories include dramatic through-the-window rescues by handsome princes, all parts acted with elaborate emotion by 4-year-old me. Mom laughed and called me Sarah Heartburn. Decades later, when real romance and drama exploded my life, she told me about my namesake, my great-aunt Tante Yudit, who tragically loved a married man who died young, leaving her to mourn silently in her own miserable marriage. She was murdered by the Nazis early in the war.