I wish I spent more time reading books. I’m excited whenever I’m engrossed in a book and can’t wait to share it with a friend. I also feel like I’m a richer person when I read, especially when I’m learning something.
Sarah’s Key, by Tatiana De Rosnay, recently had a profound impact on me. The story begins as the French police are brutally arresting Jewish families in Paris in 1942, known as the Vel’ d’Hiv roundup. Sarah, a 10-year old girl, quickly instructs her little brother to hide in a secret cupboard in their home. She takes the key to the hiding place and promises she’ll be back in a few hours.
Brilliantly capturing the intensity of Sarah’s fear and pain as she desperately plots her return to free her brother, the chilling tale is interwoven with that of Julia Jarmond, an American journalist who is investigating the roundup in 2002. Julia stumbles onto a trail of family secrets linking her to Sarah, and to questions about her own future.
Years ago, I formed a book group with close friends. We’d meet in my apartment after work (we’d try to come together once a month) and everyone would bring food and wine. It was glorious.
The group lasted about four years. Besides being together with women I adored, it gave me the impetus to read all the time.