I offer thanks to You, living and eternal King, for You have mercifully restored my soul within me: Your faithfulness is great.

Baruch ata Adonai, Eloheynu melech HaOlam, asher kidishanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu.

Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who has sanctified us with His commandments.

“They have the same meaning,” she said to the old man.

“Yes, they are the same, and a world apart. Say one, and you are applauded. Say the other and you’re condemned.”

Madeleine was confused, especially when she asked the governess what a Jew was. She was curious after her conversation with her grandfather, for she had never heard the term Jew before. The usually docile governess struck her face so hard her cheek had stung for days afterward. “You have no need to know about what is wrong with the world and all the evil it contains,” her governess scolded. “Don’t mention that word again.”

Madeleine heard her aunt speak of her grandfather as the old Jew in the attic. She wished to be rid of him, but it was his house, and they could not throw him out. At least not yet. A lawyer came to tell them so. They would have to wait for him to die.

No one could stop them from walking in the garden, so Madeleine and her grandfather began to meet on a daily basis. Madeleine always asked him if he would eat a frog again, but he always shook his head and refused. One day, while he drowsed in the sun on the bench, she went to the pond, which was stocked with fish and rife with yellow and magenta water lilies. It was a beautiful sunny day. She had a bucket and she managed to catch five frogs, and had gotten her petticoat good and muddy in the process, which she knew she would pay for later when the governess spanked her with a hairbrush. She ran over to her beloved grandfather and presented him with her catch. He woke from dozing and looked at her, resigned, but with a glow of pride in his eyes.