One of my friends at work just moved into a new apartment. It's not in a Jewish area, but the landlord is -- you guessed it -- a Hasidic Jew.
It's not all about the Benjamins for me. The material world is something I just live with.
Revelations through summer camp, mu shu vegetables, and cheap sunglasses.
A poem on a Penn Station wall inspired my own poem about what I want, need, and hope for at this difficult moment.
NYC is glorious: the street life, the food, the energy. But Boston is much cheaper and carries much less stress. The dilemma is intense and even spiritual.
Somehow, raising money seemed liked a dirty business. From unkempt Rabbis, to overly-excitable telethon hosts, to how-to sessions for spiritual leaders, asking for money seemed disingenuous. And then -- it became my world.
Being young and idealistic, unafraid and untied down, we did what any sensible couple would do. We sold all of our things, returned our wedding gifts, and moved across the world to study in Israel. It was scary and exciting and we had nothing to lose.
Except losing it all.
There is no magic bullet for making Jewish education universally available and affordable, but prioritizing it for our kids and ourselves is vital for our tradition.
