Slice of Life

I have a lot of enemies. I don’t know them personally, but I’ve noticed many drivers passing me on the road who don’t seem to be particularly happy with me. They do not wave and smile as they pass. They sometimes have an angry look on their faces and often it seems that one of their hands is permanently attached to the horn. What can I say? I’m not an Indy 500 racer, which puts me in a negligible minority in this country. Driving on the road is not my favorite activity either. Just so you know.

The news here in Israel can sometimes be difficult to hear. Whether it’s the security situation, the political discourse, or terrible accidents, there’s, unfortunately, no shortage of disturbing bulletins. With all that, there is always some positive news, as well, which reminds me how lucky I am to live here.

Sometimes it takes the worst to bring out the best. We see this cycle repeatedly when tragedy strikes, and the human spirit responds triumphantly in an uplifting and inspiring way. Examples of this here in Israel are far too many to count.

With our aufruf, wedding, and sheva brachos behind us, things are slowly beginning to settle down and return to normal. Like I said, slowly.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Pitter patter. Pitter patter.  Swoosh.  Swoooosh!  Gush!  What kind of article is this? you must be wondering.  After a three-week break from writing my column due to my son’s wedding, Baruch Hashem, you must be asking yourselves if I forgot how to write.  You’re probably thinking that in the extremely somewhat stressful period leading up to the wedding, I must have completely lost my mind touch.  You are wondering if, in a moment of desperation due to my inability to come up with original material, I decided to plagiarize a book by Dr. Seuss.  But, no, I did not forget how to write.  And, no, I did not plagiarize a book by Dr. Seuss, or anyone else for that matter.  I’m just sharing with you the unwelcome sounds that have been reverberating through my home of late. 

As a native of Kew Gardens Hills who got married and lived in Flatbush for several years before making aliyah, I’ve always lived in strong and vibrant Jewish communities. There were many schools of varied hashkafos from which to choose. Numerous minyanim were within a short walking distance and, of course, there was no shortage of kosher food and restaurants.