I stood there with my cup, holding it in a moment of forever, the siddur in my hand, my eyes only seeing those words. The fire of felt abandonment flared, crackling with the cool water tossed upon it. Each time I saw the words once more, tears sprung up again and rolled down my cheeks, telling me, again and again…. Love… and with desire….
People may come and go… and I never know, and I can feel so much pain…
But in this one small moment, I know that in an eternity of forever, my Father in heaven is telling me that, no matter what….
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Purim is a fantastic time for fantasies, so I hope you won’t mind my fantasizing about how easy life would be if kids would prefer healthy cuisine over sweets. Imagine waking up to the call of “Mommy, when will my oatmeal be ready?”… As you rush to ladle out the hot unsweetened cereal, you rub […]
One of the earliest special Purims we have on record was celebrated by the Jews of Granada and Shmuel HaNagid, the eleventh-century rav, poet, soldier and statesman, and one of the most influential Jews in Muslim Spain.