In this moment of rising antisemitism, I’ve noticed that the way I remember, and retell, my own childhood has changed too.

Jews spoke in two voices about Ruth, a kind of national schizophrenia, one with joyous chanting on Shavuos as the Book of Ruth was read; the other, removing her name from the chain-link of repeated names throughout the generations.

Saying kaddish every day tested my faith and commitment. It made me realize that there is no room for excuses. It taught me how to show up. It taught me that my voice can be heard, even when not expected.

Phillips’ letter – with its faith in Congress’ Declaration – now sits in display not far from the Liberty Bell and its inscription from the biblical book of Leviticus.