The weight of grief, fear, and bigotry.
The imprint of trauma.
The inner wonder and light that no measure of darkness can extinguish.

The daughter of Holocaust survivors and recent immigrants, Ani Tuzman grows up in a world darkened not only by her parents’ unfathomable grief and rage, but also by the bewildering bigotry of her American neighbors, schoolmates, and teachers. Yet on the farm that is her home, Ani can’t help but find beauty and joy.

Ani doesn’t tell her parents that every day on the school bus her hair is searched for her Jew-Devil horns. She also doesn’t dare talk about the ecstasy of spinning in a meadow, the solace of writing to an unseen companion, or about any of the other secret sorrows and joys she believes that she has no right to feel.

In her memoir, Angels on the Clothesline, Ani, the woman, bridges time to be the presence missing from her childhood. What opens up is an intimate account of vulnerability, creativity, and irrepressible resilience. We walk in young Ani’s shoes, see through her eyes, and witness, despite the burden of trauma, a child’s innate wonder that will not be extinguished and ultimately protects her.

Written in compelling vignettes, Angels on the Clothesline arouses awe for the human spirit—revealing how easily we can wound and be wounded and, through all this, choose to love. Told with tender and unflinching immediacy, Ani’s story is an invitation to embrace ourselves and each other with the compassion that can free us.