Given the options, I’m glad I don’t fit in. I’m glad I keep my eyes open. I’m glad institutions make my skin crawl, that being in church—or anyplace that feels like a western, Christian, colonized knockoff—doesn’t feel right to me.
I know Gershon Legman held the opinion that limericks were not meant to be clean, but this is a family post, so, sorry! Or, you're welcome!
If it’s not fun or easy, then it’s hard, and if it’s hard, then who wants to try?
Teach her that to be Jewish is to be kind.
I hate putting in effort; I just want to enjoy.
Rachel's assignment? To cover the topic, “Why don’t we talk about Gd enough?”
Despite their joy, Father's Day and Mother's Day exacerbate wounds. How does the motherless child feel while her classmates are making cards for Mom?
I don't learn or grow from rejection. Can I reject rejection entirely? Do I want to?
Open your mind, and possibilities that once seemed inconceivable emerge. It's a wild, soul-bending adventure.