Psychotherapy Networker, November 1st, 2003
The Tree
face=+Italic; A child's quest provides hope for a lifetimeface=-Italic;
BY IRENE SARDANIS
I've lived through more than 60 Christmas Eves, but the one I remember best took place in my family's apartment in the Bronx on a cold night in 1943. I was 10. My older brother was away in the Navy, somewhere in the South Pacific. My father was long gone. My two older sisters were away with relatives, and the responsibility for caring for my mother had fallen to me.
It was freezing outside that night and our tenement, too, was cold. The apartment was dark, save for the lone lamp in the living...
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