Mom soon got a place for us in the rear of a Jewish family's house in Philadelphia. Their back yard was my front yard, and I played with the two children, but mostly wih the little Jewish boy who was about my age. Every afternoon our games in the yard were interrupted by the arrival of the rabbi who was giving him Hebrew lessons. The Jewish boy hated to stop playing with me to learn the ancient prayers and chants. But I was intrigued by the strange sounds. I'd stand under the window by the hour, listening, without, of course, understanding a single word.