I’m talking directly to the tiny little you who lives inside of you.
Let others bask in the surety of sunlight. You were born of the moonlight tribe.
Valentine Shmalentine, where're my Devorah-hearts at?
This Hanukkah, the world is upside down. Let's flip the script.
And why should I? I’m only 37. My oldest child is only eight. I have so much to learn, and sense that even if I’m fortunate enough to gain wisdom, there will always be so much more that I do not know.
The beauty of the Hebrew, the imposition of the commandment, and the laughter of the night, tie us together. I I forget everything; the picket lines, the ugly words, and the deep, searing, inner heartbreak of a people that have failed me.
What might happen if instead of seeing any particular political stance, affiliation or agenda, we saw a Jew? A person? A soul?
