"I looked up. Now he was staring at me, looking past that veil between him and the forbidden realm. I saw his eyes. Never had I seen them so close up. They were unusual and beautiful, their color reminding me of the jar of honey my grandmother used to leave on the kitchen windowsill to warm in the sun. I used to love its color when the light poured through, a deep warm gold. I knew then, with a most eerie shiver, that God wasn't always angry, not even with me, that He had moments of forgiveness and love, even if they were only moments." Nineteen year old Hannah lives in a shtetl outside...