A week after a son was born to her in Manhattan's Mount Morris Park Hospital two years ago, Mrs. Albert L. Lyman lay in the maternity ward, her husband sitting by her bed. Idly the Lymans, good Roman Catholics both, watched a man in a skullcap bring in a baby on a pillow, deposit it on the adjoining bed of Mrs. Shirley Lippman. "Mazzal Tov! Good luck!" beamed the man, rubbing his hands. "It was a fine b'rith!" Mr. Lyman took a second look at the infant on Mrs. Lippman's bed, exclaimed: "Why,...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
