I knew then that he was my soul and I was his voice.
Archives for September 2018
“There’s no girl,” he said in mock-sorrow.
Ruth watched as the mobs came.
“It’s a permit to bulldoze my chicken coop,” said Dad. “The Mayor signed it.”
What do I know about myself, let alone about the world that’s gone?
On Sukkos, we shake the four species three times ahead at הוֹדוּ, back at טוֹב, up at לְעוֹלָם and down at חַסְדוֹ. Is there any lesson that these words teach us?
In some ways, I conceive of Hashem as the greatest of writers. Except, instead of working with fictional characters in a fictional world, he works with real people in the real world.
Returning is about asking hard questions. Many of these questions have never been asked until now, perhaps, because we’ve been too frightened of learning the answers. But the time has come to ask those questions.
“Never mind the garden! Let’s have the story!” Shifra demanded.
“Did the other guy leave?” I asked the cabbie.
“No other guy,” he answered, in a Filipino accent, “We’re here.”