I did not start crying until I was, of all places, outside of a McDonald’s restaurant in a rest area on highway S17 in Olempin, Poland — Child refugees, mostly just with their mothers, but occasionally with a gray-haired grandfather or non-Ukrainian father, were being coaxed to choose a toy from boxes provided by a kind-hearted company and volunteers helping those fleeing the war. I had gone to Warsaw to continue research about my own family’s history…