“I know one cannot see a memory. I can. I see it as I see the shadow of a shadow which endlessly withdraws, as if to huddle in a corner.” These lines come from an excerpt read from a forthcoming novel, The Forgotten, which chronicles, without ever mentioning it by name, the devastating disease, Alzheimer's. The idea was to explore the dark side of memory, when memory abandons us or we abandon memory. This dark side appears recently in an assault on Jewish memory in Europe and America, as seen for example in ugly cartoons. Though one can be pessimistic, divisions also in the Jewish community can be overcome by tolerance, generosity, and communication. No people has like the Jewish people developed remembrance to such a degree of total commitment, remembering every catastrophe just as we do every miracle. There are also signs of hope, particularly the coming apart of the communist world and the fall of the Berlin wall on November 9. But deeply troubling was that last week present joy overwhelmed past events: everyone forgot to make the connections to the November 9 date of Kristalnacht fifty-one years before. Reading my story, “Testament of a Jew from Saragossa,” shows how it is possible to make connections. The Jew is he or she who makes connections: to Sinai, to Jerusalem.