The braveness of the people that lived through these horrendous experiences never ceases to amaze me. At the beginning of this book, Leah gives birth to a baby boy inside of a city and a hospital that is being bombed, with walls crumbling down all around her. Merely a day later, she takes the long trek out of the city with thousands of other people, carrying the swaddled baby while having to run from ditch to ditch in order to avoid the German planes shooting into the masses of people fleeing the city.
The bris was a ritual that affirmed the past, while facing the unknown. It was the only time Sam and his family would smile in the Warsaw ghetto and the last time they would be happy in Poland.