When I last blogged, I mentioned the end of our second day, and something that happened that was so profound, and so spirit filled, I decided to reserve my description of it, to be the sole focus of this post. It happened in a place called Tycocin. A small village, one of the many in Poland, once filled with Jews and Jewish life, that are now silent. Wiped clean by the evil deeds of the Third Reich. We first visited what was the synagogue there, near the center of town, a remarkable building that, through the better angels of those Christians and others left in the town, has been restored as a museum, and a town center, for concerts and other uses. It looks like a synagogue inside, but it is no longer active, because there are no longer Jews there. I left you there, with a few pictures, in…
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