Meet Jean Roth.
One of my oldest friends once told me that I could be Martha Stewart. But aside from the cooking (and a little bit of knitting and crocheting), I’m totally useless at crafts. I’ve never met Jean in person, and to tell you the truth, I can’t even remember where I met her on the Net, but it’s a good thing I did, because Jean is so good at crafts, she even sells them online, and for real money!
Tonight is the beginning of Israel’s 64th birthday celebrations. All over the country people gather together in public parks to listen to music, dance a little, watch the fireworks and basically party. And tomorrow? Tomorrow the whole country heads outdoors for the national sport of Israel, barbecuing, or in other words, the art of mangal.
We get together with our friends in Ra’anana every year, and it can become a bit rowdy…
I am a classic second generation Holocaust survivor.
My third generation kids are unabashedly Jewish and unabashedly Israeli and I so wish my parents were around to see how I have raised my phoenixes out of the fires and ashes of the camps.
Most of the time I give you a recipe for something yummy, something nice you can do to feed yourself, your family, your friends and even your community. I’m not going to do that today. Today you are going to get something different, a recipe for a mitzvah, an act of human kindness, something you can do to help someone else.
If you have ever been to Israel, whether you are Jewish or not, you have most probably visited the Kotel, the Western Wall. And whether it is your first time, or your 100th time, you probably every now and again leave a little note for God, stuffed in the cracks of the wall.
It’s a known constant in my life that man plans, God laughs. Yesterday I said in my Honey Honey blog post:
So I could leave you with a cute little video of buzzing bees or those singing worms in the apple wishing you a happy new year, but I won’t.
Wrong. Sort of.