In the Name of Sorrow and Hope [antikvár]

Prologue A KING, three presidents, an acting prime minister, the Secretary-General of the United Nations . . . one after the other, they walked slowly to the podium. They spoke solemnly, admiringly, about Yitzhak Rabin, the peacemaker, the politician. Their words floated by me. My mind, still numb with shock, was elsewhere. I looked down at the piece of paper in my hand. I folded it and unfolded it. I tried to see the words I had written on it, but I could only see Grandpa's face. Do it well, I kept telling myself. Noa, show him that you are strong. Suddenly my name was called out. I could no longer pretend it was a nightmare. My sadness was real. I rose, quite unaware that the entire world was watching me. I thought my legs might give way, but they did not. I walked to the podium and stood there alone. To my left, only yards away, lay Grandpa, also alone.