My mom is a survivor of the WWII. She’s 95, with a clear mind. She endured in her youth forced labour, persecution and years of forced separation from her husband. She never gave up. Now, a stroke hit her. She is in a wheelchair, with half her body paralyzed. But she struggles every day to read, talk and look good. Recently a group of young reporters came to interview her, Interested in her remembrances of those years and her adventures. They were in their twenties. I was nervous because my mom told me she was afraid of the cameras. It was interesting to see how my mom and these youngsters connected immediately despite the generation gap




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