Shlomo, I never met you, but today your family told us you’d want us to take a moment to eat ice cream in your honor. I didn’t think I’d be able to. I was running around all day, and honestly, I almost didn’t make it to the shop before it closed. But your family asked, so I did it. And I realized—I’d forgotten just how good ice cream can be. Eating it to honor someone so wonderful and resilient made it taste all the better. Thank you, Shlomo. Your memory is a blessing to us all.
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