The Invisible Wall

“When is this world going to grow up? When are people going to learn that we’re all alike and nobody’s any better or worse than anybody else? How many wars do we have to fight, and how many more millions have to be slaughtered before the world gets any sense in its fat head?” I love this quote from the book I just finished reading entitled, “The Invisible Wall: A Love Story That Broke Barriers,” by Harry Bernstein. From the very first chapter I was “hooked,” reading it every moment I could. I was completely captivated by this little book depicting the barriers between Christians and Jews and the love story within the story that broke down those invisible walls. I had no idea the extent of bigotry and anti-Semitism that existed before the war and still exists to some extent today!



Harry Bernstein grew up in a small world of poverty with an abusive, distant father. In the Lancashire mill town of his English childhood, during prewar and wartime of the early last century, the poverty stricken Jews clustered along one side of their neighborhood street and the Christians lived on the other side, separated by a few feet that might as well have been hundreds of miles. “The Invisible Wall,” is a heart-wrenching memoir, describing two cultures cohabiting uneasily, prey to misunderstandings that distort lives on both sides. It is a world of pain and prejudice, a story that brilliantly illuminates a time, a place and a family struggling valiantly to beat impossible odds.



The book was suggested to me by my neighborhood book club. At first I was only interested in it because of the author, Harry Bernstein’s amazing accomplishment of publishing his memoir at the age of 93. That is a story in itself, an inspiration to anyone who thinks it’s too late. However, as I read this engaging story I quickly fell in love with the book and it's poignant message. Here are some thoughts in Harry's own words from an interview he gave after making the New York Times best sellers list.

“If I had not lived until I was 90, I would not have been able to write this book,” he said. “It just could not have been done even when I was 10 years younger. I wasn't ready.” And he suggested that he might not be an anomaly: “God knows what other potentials lurk in other people, if we could only keep them alive well into their 90s!”

The interview went on to say that the catalyst for “The Invisible Wall” was the death, nearly five years earlier, of Ruby, his wife of 67 years, who had leukemia. “It was a terrible thing for me because it never occurred to either one of us that it would not last forever,” he said. “There was so much emptiness, especially at nighttime, and you had to find something to fill in that gap. I was looking for a home.”

He found it, he said, in his childhood memories, and then in writing about them. “I realized then why I had failed in writing novels,” he said. “Because I turned away from personal experience and depended on imagination.” Harry Bernstein is now 99 years old and has published a second book depicting his life after immigrating to America, called, “The Dream.” I can't wait to read it!



“People get smarter. The human brain has a potential for development. Someday it will grow big enough so that everybody will see and understand the truth, and then we won’t act like a bunch of sheep, and then that wall that separates the two sides of our street will crumble, just like the Wall of Jericho . . . We’re going to have a better world. Things won’t always be the way they are now. I promise you, there’ll be a better world than the one we’re living in today.” ~ Quotation from “The Invisible Wall”


A Tale of Three Birds

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” proclaim the opening lines of Charles Dickens most famous work of fiction. The 1859 novel, “A Tale of Two Cities,” is a tragic tale that concludes with a guillotining and the prophetic final thoughts of the victim.

Last Saturday we played out the final curtain call to our own little sad story that I have now entitled, “A Tale of Three Birds.” It began as a somewhat humorous, yet annoying situation, the best of times. Unfortunately, like Dickens novel it has ended in tragedy, a somewhat disturbingly saga I won’t soon forget. The worst of times.

On Saturday, June 18, 2009, three lifeless, feathered bodies were discovered on our front porch by our 11-year-old grandson, Cayden. I learned of the demise while my son, Cord, was helping me solve my computer back-up problem. Cayden came strolling in the room and asked if we had any ant spray. I assumed he'd seen an ant or two on the kitchen floor and remarked, “No we just use peppermint essential oil,” as a quick explanation of why we don't own a simple can of ant spray. In reality, having been introduced recently to the wonderful new world of doTerra essential oils, I know that peppermint in the point of entry is supposed to get rid of ants. However, although we've intended to try it if needed, we have never actually used it. Cayden just sat there silently and suddenly it occurred to me that there was probably a good reason why he'd asked. So I questioned, “Why? Do we have ants?”

It was then he told us about the three dead birds on our front porch, where apparently the ants were now gathering for a feast. Since my husband was not home, my son rushed outside to check out the grizzly scene and dispose of the poor unfortunate souls. As Cord came back into the house he expressed concern as to why his son was more distressed over the ants than the dead birds. I thought perhaps Cayden figured he couldn't do anything for the birds, but he could do something about the ants. Then again, knowing his loving attitude towards me, perhaps Cayden just wanted to spare me the sad news.

Now I must divert to the beginning of summer where this sad tale began. Two birds decided to begin a family by building their nest in the top pillar of our front porch covering. We were blissfully unaware, as my husband and teenage daughter, Kenzi, who is our last remaining child at home, enter in and out of the garage door where their cars are parked. We became aware of the nest after the eggs were already laid, as the new parents went into protection mode, swarming over the heads of those trying to enter our sanctuary.

Much to my dismay, our front porch was a mess with bird droppings and nesting material. There was also a reoccurring message playing in my head about how bird nests and bird feeders attract ticks! Our girls, coming and going, complained about the birds overhead and I mentally pictured the birds pecking their heads much as the birds did in the horrific old 1963 Alfred Hitchcock movie, “The Birds.” I was suddenly aghast, going into mother bear mode, protecting her cubs. Much to my own shock and amazement I heard myself telling my husband he needed to shoot the birds or at least knock down their nest with a broom and bash their little heads in! My husband's kind eyes widened at my shocking words, as we both realized my father's practical animal killing ways had rubbed off me more than I'd previously realized. My girls were somewhat horrified at my words as well, scared of the attacking birds, yet still sympathetic to their parental needs. My youngest grandson, Isaac, who is three, apparently a silent observer to this conversation, told his dad later in the day that he needed to get his gun and shoot grandma's birds! My hero! Unfortunately I've probably scarred him for life! Ah! Another good one to complain to Oprah about when he’s grown!

Continuing with my little tale of woe, I was finally convinced of the practical, more charitable need of allowing the eggs to be hatched before the nest was cleared away. I resigned myself to the little germ ridden mess greeting our visitors. Did I mention I once read an article about bird feeders and birds attracting ticks? Deer apparently attract them too. So while I might have formerly had a soft spot in my heart for these beautiful scenes of nature, it has vanished with my visions of their potential germ carrying diseases. I do love and enjoy nature where it was intended to be . . . in trees, meadows, forests, mountains, or on YouTube where they belong . . . not invading my personal space!

Alas, our “Tale of Three Birds” had a very unpredictable ending. While the eggs finally hatched and three little baby bird heads appeared over the top of the nest, they were doomed, eventually falling to their death on the cold hard cement below! I find I have new completely unexplained anger now for the bird parents, a mixture of sympathy and I told you so. Stupid birds! They should know better than to build their nests over cement. It’s true that we only have one small tree in our yard, but the neighbors have trees a plenty! Next year we WILL knock down any potential nests before they begin, saving unknown lives and emotional suffering! Just like in the final sentence of A Tale of Two Cities, “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done!”

I’m a Breck Girl!

I’m a product of the 1950’s, a member of the “Baby Boomer” generation, babies born during the decade following World War II. As children of that generation we were more privileged than our parents before, having home encyclopedias and opportunities for education and higher learning. It was the beginning of the era of technology, leading to the great information highway we have today.

That period in time began before commercial jets, color television, cordless phones, computers, TV dinners, garbage disposers, air conditioning, or shopping malls. It was an era of innocence, unmarked by tales of terror and child kidnappings. We played all day in the sun, “digging to China” in the back yard, or “flying to the moon” on our swing sets. On our bicycles we explored unknown neighborhoods, carefree and unafraid. We ran through lawn sprinkled rainbows to beat the heat and jumped with joy in the rare, cool sweetness of a midsummer shower. The sound of the ice-cream truck’s music filling our neighborhood, sent kids scampering for coins to buy cherry, grape and banana Popsicles, crunchy Drumsticks, or Eskimo Pies.



Our lifestyles in the 50’s were full of the simplicity, so evident at that time. We spent time searching on hands and knees in the grass for cherished four-leaf clovers, hoping to carry good luck throughout the day. The television shows depicted the morals and values of our society. We watched, The Mickey Mouse Club with Annette and the Mouseketeers, The Lone Ranger, Zorro, The Andy Griffith Show, Leave it to Beaver, and Donna Reed. The westerns on the television series were about the “good guys” always winning! 



There were Sunday-best clothes and ice-cream Sunday’s, slip-on penny loafers adorned with shiny pennies and saddle shoes tied with laces. We wore bobbie socks and bobbie pins. Families spent Friday nights at the drive-in movie theater watching movies and eating snacks from the back of their station wagons, positioned to face the movie screen. Movies were in black and white or the newly advanced technicolor, with black and white newsreels, previews and cartoons before the featured presentation.



During my teenage years in the 60’s, much of today’s modern technology was non existent as well. There were no hand-held blow dryers for styling our hair. We rolled our wet hair in brush rollers, air drying overnight or sitting beneath slow hair dryers for hours. If we were in a hurry we used the end of the hair dryer hose.

I was a “Breck” cream rinse girl back then, carefully measuring out a couple of tablespoons of the milky white substance into a mason jar filled with warm water and lemon juice to rinse my freshly shampooed “Prell” hair. According to the television commercials, Prell (a green gel like shampoo) made my hair “clean and smelling pretty.” But it was the Breck cream rinse that made my hair “soft and silky, my comb simply floating through my hair!” I, too, could be the “girl with the hair,” as promised!

The lemon juice was my own idea, as I visualized the beautiful blond highlights that I hoped would streak through my ordinary light brown hair. Later I added in a product called “Sun In,” a conditioner-like product one put in her hair to accent the natural highlights and make it shine! I knew this because on my radio, Donny and Marie sound-a-likes sang, “Sun In and sunlight, and you'll be glowing tonight!” Much later, I resorted to cotton ball streaks of pure, drugstore peroxide, sure to increase my real “natural” highlights. Our hairstyling options were aerosol hairsprays, designed to give your “beehive hairdo” holding power and gel which was pretty much those jars of “Dippity-Do,” which you scooped out with your fingers and slopped onto your damp hair. My children think it odd that I still refer to my conditioner as cream rinse. However, you had to have been a true “Breck Girl” to know what that meant!

There has never been a decade quite like the 60’s with it’s diversity, conflicts, hope, anger, and of course, the music! I grew up when transistor radios were cool, as we twisted and rocked to the new era of “Rock and Roll” music. The Beetles, Elvis Presley, The Beach Boys, Mama’s and the Papa’s, and The Kingston Trio were classics on the radio, instead of oldies. It was a time of fun and innocence that was reflected in the music and lyrics such as, “All you need is love . . . love is all you need,” sung by The Beetles in their 1967 hit song, “All You Need is Love.” The dance crazes characterized that decade. It was a time of individual self expression, as displayed during the largest outdoor rock concert ever performed, now known as “Woodstock,” an event I was unaware of at the time, living in my own little naive world.

The 60’s were also a generation devoted to changing the world. There were changes not only evident in music, but also in fashion, world events, automobiles, toys and technology. Our simple technology became the forerunner of today’s innovative modern computer world. During my senior year in high school, we had to turn in a ten-page research paper for English. I had to carefully type each page out on my trusty non-electric typewriter, shaking in fear of making a mistake and having to retype. There was no grammar or spell check and there couldn’t be any “Wite-Out” on the pages, covering up errors. If I mistyped, I had to start my page completely over!



Gas stations had full-service pumps and it came with a smile. When you pulled into one an attendant quickly ran out to find out how much of what kind of gas you wanted, and then while it was pumping, he checked your car’s oil and washed the windows!

There were four basic food groups back then: Meat and Beans, Milk and Cheese, Fruits and Vegetables, and Breads and Cereals. A healthy meal had one serving from each. We never used the words “protein, carbs, or fats.”

I remember Maybelline Dial-A-Lash mascara and the Cover Girl eye shadow kits with the four shades of blue. The diagram on the back showed you how to apply all four shades at once, which I did.



Everyone I knew kept a tall can of Aqua-Net hairspray in their school locker. You could smell it on the girls in my school like it was perfume, now awkwardly reminiscent of the iconic movie, “Hairspray,” which was exactly the way we looked!

We wore “Charlie” perfume and “Jean Nate” (Pronounced Nah-TAY) lemon body splash. That commercial showed a woman getting out of the bathtub, pouring Jean Nate into her hand, splashing it onto her bare leg! Then the commercial showed her dressed as a jockey, riding a horse off into the sunset. Because nothing enhances the horse-riding experience like smelling like lemons!

We wore “Bonne Bell Lip Smackers” until Maybelline came out with “Kissing Potion,” a liquid lip-gloss in a tube with a roller ball. Mine was Strawberry.

Dressed up in nylons and heals, we did our shopping in downtown department stores like Auerbachs and Sears, where attendants operated elevators to the upper floors, announcing each stop: “Second Floor: housewares, dry goods, notions,” and you said, “Out, please.”



It has been said that by the sheer force of its numbers, the baby boomers were a demographic bulge, which remodeled society as they passed through it. Me? I’m just a simple “Breck” girl, living life in a world full of modern technology!

Angels On My Shoulder

Last night I had a dream. I was in my car at the bottom of a very steep crossroad, trying to make a left hand turn that would change my direction to a flat and normal road. However the cars on the upper portion of the crossroad kept coming towards me, making it impossible to turn. The first car came across the road at an alarming speed. I must have been unprotected in a convertible, because I barely ducked my head in time to miss the out of control, speeding car that had suddenly became airborne, flying over my head and landing directly in back of me. Then a second vehicle, which was a large truck, literally came flying across the road above my head. Surprisingly the truck suddenly tipped sideways in the air, landing beside my car, narrowly missing me. Finally a third object, also airborne came barreling towards me. I realized this object was a house and I felt immediate fear, probably like the anxiety the wicked witch felt just before Dorothy's house fell on her in the Wizard of Oz. Miraculously, just before my impending doom, the house was suddenly lifted upward, as if it had wings. It gracefully floated away like a balloon caught in a gentle breeze. At this point I woke up.

In pondering my dream and the many miracles and coincidences that have occurred during the last few months, I interpreted my dream in the following way: I am sitting at the crossroads of the very long and steep road where my healing journey began. I am now prepared with the knowledge I need to navigate my way towards a new path. Yet obstacles are constantly coming towards me trying to prevent me from doing so. However, miraculously the obstacles are removed at the very instant they need to be!

Over the last several months numerous people have gone out of their way in time, distance and personal expense to help me. These individuals did not even know me. I had contacted them because of family and friends. In each of the instances, upon seeing my dire condition, they expressed doubt in being able to help me. And then suddenly, as if angels on my shoulders whispered in their ears, each individual expressed a desire to help and formulated a plan, completely dismissing their previous fears.

I don’t know who my guardian angels are, but I know they are here beside me helping me. I’ve seen people’s attitudes change and their faces of fear and doubt turn to love and compassion. I pray each morning for His spirit to be with me, and I know He has responded by sending His Heavenly messengers!



“I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, . . . my Spirit shall be in your [heart], and mine angels round about you, to bear you up.” ~ D&C 84:88

“I testify of angels, both the heavenly and the mortal kind. In doing so I am testifying that God never leaves us alone, never leaves us unaided in the challenges that we face.” (“The Ministry of Angels,” General Conference, October 2008) ~ Elder Jeffrey R. Holland