RJ Blog

In the eternal shadow of our mother, Sarah, Often with my grandmothers and their mothers, too, Standing beside me as I hold the clean white candles and Clear the thoughts that crowd my weekday mind, I enter the open arms of Shabbat

I was stunned the first time my then-8th grade daughter Rebecca called me on a Friday afternoon to inform me that she wouldn’t be home for dinner. Yes, she knew it was Friday night. And yes, she understood that it was Shabbat. As I hung up, I comforted myself by chalking it up to the beginning of adolescent rebellion. I hadn’t witnessed much adolescent rebellion growing up with my six sisters. None of us would have dreamed of not being home on Friday nights, a time when no one took babysitting jobs or asked to eat at a friend’s. We [...]

I wrote this meditation years ago when I was a member of the Shabbat Committee at Temple B’nai Or in Morristown, N.J. It is meant to be read before L’cha Dodi at Friday evening services. “Meditation” Open my heart tonight to welcome Shabbat in the natural way I did as a child—open, unquestioning, believing. Leaning against my father, Shabbat melodies became mine as the fringes of his tallis slipped through my fingers again and again.

As someone who grew up reading Little Golden Books in which mommies and daddies take care of their obedient children, I love how Maurice Sendak’s stories, by contrast, dive right into the fray of real life—warts and all.  As a librarian, I also appreciate what a pioneer Sendak was and how his stories and illustrations broke barriers in children’s literature.  I love the edgy realness of his characters—and especially relate to bratty Pierre of I-don’t-care fame who reminds me of my young self answering my own mother.  Sendak’s kids are not gift wrapped with pretty paper or shiny bows.  Like [...]