I was born in Jerusalem. At the time, my parents were founding members of a kibbutz nearby, where I spent my first two years. That meant they had some notions about building a just society and making the world a better place.

I, on the other hand, had no such illusions. I dreamed of becoming a movie star, which mostly meant vacationing on something called a yacht, wearing sunglasses. I sunburn easily and get seasick, so I abandoned this dream early on.

Just about that time, at the ripe old age of seven, I discovered a book called The Little Prince. It seemed to convey some deep truths. Although the little tyke was an unlikely planet-hopper, he asked very good questions. I kept the book by my bedside, the way some keep the Bible.

In a way, the die was cast then. Some day I would grow up to tell stories to children.

I have lived for many years in a small house by the sea. At least it seems to be close to the sea if you look at a map. You’d have to walk a few blocks and then you’d get a glimpse of the ocean, on a very clear day. But I thought “by the sea” sounds better.

 I share my home and anchor with my husband, three adopted cats, and two rapidly maturing children who visit when they need a break from their busy lives, and come home to nest and give the washing machine a workout. 

I don’t think about being famous, though rich would be nice. My picture was published in a magazine once, as an expert on oriental rugs, antique textiles, and folk art. An “expert” means that you know more than most about something, or at least two people think you do. One of them could be your mother, which doesn’t count.

My patient husband doesn’t think I do much, and my cats wonder how someone who doesn’t do much seems so busy. When I'm not weeding, cooking, or cleaning, (in that order, which means very little cleaning) I also write books for children, most of them very good. At least two people think so.

I have visions of maybe bringing a little light to some dark corners with these stories. You see, I may be my parents’ daughter after all.