Imagine the apprehension and awkward small talk: Two sisters, separated as children by war and thousands of miles, are reunited as adults – strangers – nearly two decades later.

Now imagine the emotions seething just below the surface: Guilt, remorse and resentment over what could have been and what was “God’s will.” One sister grew up with comfort and opportunity; the other lived through the Holocaust.

It takes some effort, but eventually sisters Rose and Lusia Weiss rediscover familial ties in Barbara Lebow’s “A Shayna Maidel,” which means “a pretty girl” in Yiddish. North Coast Repertory Theatre’s quietly moving production of this simple story, rich in characterization and emotion, demonstrates how the bonds of family can remain strong even after years of separation, and lead to healing.

The year is 1946. While Rose and her father fled Poland almost 20 years earlier, the Nazis’ rise to power had cut off escape for her older sister Lusia and their Mama, who both eventually ended up in concentration camps. Rose, now a young woman living on her own in New York, is suddenly faced with hosting the older sister she barely remembers. Lusia’s arrival in America forces the sisters and their father Mordechai to confront a family history that has been shrouded in secrecy, remorse and resentment.

Maya Baldwin (left) as Hanna and Jessica John as Lusia.

Photo courtesy North Coast Repertory Theatre

The production is a bit of a reunion for North Coast Rep artistic director David Ellenstein as well, who revisits Lebow’s 1987 work after directing it 17 years ago for the now-shuttered Gaslamp Quarter Theatre Company.

Ellenstein has assembled a capable cast for the current production, led by Jessica John in a graceful, nuanced performance. Her Lusia exudes a fortitude that borders on obstinance, along with an aching vulnerability. Percolating in her are all the pent up emotions that Rose and Mordechai have held at bay for so long.

Ralph Elias plays the bullying father with a touch of shame, peeling back just enough for us to glimpse Mordechai’s inner turmoil. In Lusia’s memories, D. Candis Paule is a warm and loving Mama – no Jewish mother stereotypes here.

The two sisters are worlds apart in appearance and demeanor. Rose is stylish, girlish and chatty. Designer Jeanne Reith’s apt costumes contrast Rose’s feminine vintage dresses with Lusia’s drab, hausfrau garments. Lusia is withdrawn and ragged, haunted by the atrocities she has witnessed and the people and homeland she cannot forget. Rayzel Weiss, however, has changed her name to Rose White, a symptom of alienation from family and heritage.

Christy Hall plays Rose with the “can do” spunk of a modern American woman in the ‘40s, even as she attempts to break free from the grasp of her overbearing father and assert her independence. Rose hides her discomfort and emotions behind a thick wall of blithe civility; but Hall allows the fizzy chatter to dominate, creating a character lacking in dimension. The result blunts the impact of her emotional release late in the second act.

Two other actors fill out the cast. Maya Baldwin displays both childish hope and resignation as Lusia’s best friend from childhood. Christopher M. Williams, as Lusia’s husband Duvid, draws a striking dichotomy between his appearance in Lusia’s dreams and memories of him as a vibrant young lover and reality.

These fantasies and recolletions intersperse with reality, as John deftly shifts her speech and mannerisms to give shape to the past. Matt Novotney’s lighting goes a long way in lending fluidity to the leaps through time and space on Marty Burnett’s modestly elegant set, and Chris Luessmann’s sound design signals the period with big band and Yiddish tunes.

Eventually, Rose and Lusia find their way to some middle ground, and the play ends on a hopeful note. This is a story about coming to terms with family histories and making peace in our hearts, as much as it is about human resilience and the aftermath of war.

Given where we are in history, it’s a story that still resonates.