As a kid my great grandma Clara didn't speak any English. While Russian was my first language there were some things lost in translation since I grew up in the US. She would always tell me in Russian, "Yuri, remember one thing you can be a minister here." I would smile as she handed me a rotten apple she had stollen from the "home," give me a kiss on the cheek and walk away to clean her dentures.
I would as my mother the following questions, "We're Jewish right?"
Mom, "yeah."
Me, "Why send me to Hebrew school if grandma wants me to be a minister?"
Mom, "She means Prime-Minister."
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