My sister was my idol, my best friend, my second mother — and then she left
But as the weeks and then months passed, the horse remained on my shelf, gathering dust, a lone memento of my summertime trip, and a painful reminder of the sister I desperately missed.
The summer following my high school graduation, I signed up for The European Tour with some friends. It was an emotional and inspiring trip, davening at kivrei tzaddikim and visiting the many Holocaust memorials that dot the bloodstained lands of Europe.
Our itinerary was spiritually intense, but it was also peppered with trips to exciting and exotic places in Europe. During the last week of our tour, we spent a night in the Austrian Alps and then traveled on to Venice, Italy.
Venice is known as the floating city. Art and symmetry are on every cobblestoned street, in every gift shop, and adorning every bridge. As I stood on deck aboard a ferry, I reveled in the city’s beauty. Quaint colored houses seemed to rise out of the water, framing the horizon. Small gondolas swayed down the waterways and beneath narrow bridges.
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