Her Life Was a Miracle  

Listening to my rav’s masterful explication of the Kinnos on Tishah B’Av, my dominant emotion was an overwhelming gratitude at being a member of a community that has endured so much and remained faithful.

That feeling was only reinforced by my main reading for Tishah B’Av afternoon: Frieda Bassman’s memoir Miracles (Feldheim). Only a Jew who has experienced the loss of “everything, everything” can fully understand what it is to mourn for Yerushalayim, of being “unable to ever rejoice with total abandon, or to wear gaudy jewelry or clothing in public,” she writes.

Not that Miracles is depressing. Its central character is the bravest, most optimistic, most energetic woman imaginable. “Indomitable” does not begin to do her justice. I cannot imagine readers who would not find Miracles one of the most inspiring books they have ever read, if not the most, and its heroine the most remarkable woman.

THE TWIN PILLARS of Frieda Bassman’s life were giving and doing. Her father used to tease her, “Friedush, you would be a nice-looking girl if you ever stood still long enough for anyone to see you.”