For some years I deserted religion in favour of Marxism. The republic of goodness seemed more attainable than the Kingdom of God.

I still go to a Christian priory for retreats.

Because of my Marxism, I was not into myths or miracles, whether it was the virgin birth, the physical resurrection or casting out demons from an epileptic.

It was admitted by the early rabbis that the sectarians could be as full of good works as eggs were full of meat.

Praying privately in churches, I began to discover that heaven was my true home and also that it was here and now, woven into this life.

During the Second World War, evacuated to non-Jewish households, I encountered Christianity at home and in school.

On the way to work good-hearted young girls sometimes offer me their seats, which I accept and bless them in return, a transaction satisfying to all concerned.