Frum Childhood

Childhood was wonderful in the Frum World. I spend my childhood in the Frum corner of Jerusalem surrounded by an abudance of love, a huge family, a thriving social life with all the love a child can wish for.

The streets of Jerusalem were safe and embracing to a child such as I where everyone in my community was related to me and adored my every move. I celebrated so many a year by putting on my special cloths and playing all day on the streets of Jerusalem. It was safe, it was loving, and it was all I knew.

The simple life did not last long.

Before I reached an age of double digit my father was dead, and before I reached my teens I found myself in the cold harsh streets of Brooklyn, NY.

The Frum community gave me a cold harsh shoulder. Their schools management mocked me as the pathetic charity case. The children just ignored me as the outsider who did not speak their language.

At home my Frum view of the world was shattered by the evil Zevel that my mother married in secret and let us openly suffer his abuse until I ran away from the Frum world first and from home for good.

Born to be Frum

Born in a frum world in a corner tucked away in small area of Jerusalem, our community thrived with love. The frum world of Jerusalem stayed within the frum world of Jerusalem. Not much association with the outside world although necessity at times called for association with neighbors and store owners whom were not frum, but lived within the same area. Mingling with them on a superficial level, but not in an intimate family social settings.