Beautiful Boutique Exclusive Brands Individualized Attention Kallah Discounts question. “How?” I don’t have an answer. Do I need an answer? As my mother used to tell me, “A question is enough. It makes room for unexpected wisdom.” I felt calmer. I breathed deeper, and my chest shuddered as I took in the air, took it down, knew that it is there, always. I have never passed out from hunger. Never have my children gone barefoot, although holes in their soles have posed a problem on a rainy winter day.
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Miracles do happen. It is the magic that takes a mother with frayed and angry nerves and turns her into a completely different human being. It takes an experience and changes it. Just by remembering.
How many times can a vow be broken before it is a vow no more? Our Creator has always been here. He is here, right now, with me. He knows how this will turn out, what dress Malka will adorn herself in, where the money will come from as it passes through our hands. I have to be still, listen, to be. That’s my job. Because the rest will happen, as everything does. Snow falls, melts, washes away. Children are born, grow up, marry. I am fortunate to be part of this process. As a spectator, a beneficiary. I felt good again. I decided to write a note to Malka’la. To tuck it under her pillow. If it was so hard for me to say it in person, she deserved to hear it now.
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Malka’la, my dear, I wrote. Duvid walked in. He sat. “Oof.”
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His very clothes breathed cigarette, dust. I was appalled. The beis medrash scent used to walk home and through our door with my husband. His pants would be frayed, worn thin from all the days of sitting and learning. Now, his clothes are getting heavier, saturated with dust. Every time I wash them, I pull in a pail from the cistern. Like a boy’s summer clothing, the