The story of my mother, Zulema Ester Basin de Schachner, begins on November 12, 1929, in Buenos Aires, Argentina. She was the eldest of three children born to Sofia and Israel Basin, Jewish immigrants from Russia and Ukraine. Despite being among the few women studying in the Deontology Department at the University of Buenos Aires, she pursued her passion for children’s psychology and wanted to specialize in it. However, in 1963, she moved to Israel with my father.
Unfortunately, my father, Luis Fernando Schachner, passed away in 1973, leaving my mother to raise four young children alone.
My mother was a wise, generous, and loving person who gave me excellent advice. I did not always have the sense to follow it, but as I grew older, I began to appreciate her and her way of thinking more and more. Although she passed away two years ago, her memory lives on in my heart. She continues to give me sound advice, and I do my best to heed it. It works wonders for me.
A Road Not Taken
The road not takenforty years ago – to trust my motherhear her adviceto fire the
Talking to my Mother
EXCERPT I wanted to convey the feeling behind the stories, so I added the drawings
Mother
You’re beyondand still here. I grasp your Lavender scent,add my Jasmine – A bouquet of
My mother’s memory
transformsdark moments intolessons,villains intowistful masters. Her memory chases ghostsawayand clearsspiderwebs in my heart. She enriches