Our Lives

I don't know about you but I definitely could use a little shaking up. Because when things stay in one place for too long they get boring, they get old....

Rabbi, I appreciate your invitation to join your classes, but I just don’t have time in my life for spirituality right now . . .

The kind deed he had done was able to reach him forty-five years later, and breathe a renewed enthusiasm in him to enjoy his activities of daily living . . .

The daffodils that were planted in the hard-packed dirt at the base of the palm tree, those that are trampled on year after year, continue to break through the hard soil and proudly sprout their yellow blooms . . .

Suddenly, to their surprise a car pulled over and a very Aryan looking man got out, walked over to them and asked if he could help...

I need to throw out more stuff. Tug of heartstrings. What if my children want to see my doodles from Grade Eight? More importantly, what if I want to see their doodles from age two? There are no easy answers...

If we would only slow down and pay attention to the beauty that surrounds us. We are called human beings, not human doings. We tend to value ourselves and others by how much we achieve, how many items we can check off our “to do” list, how much we can amass. If we would only slow down and fill each day with a few human “being” moments . . .

“Don’t say that,” our father said, shaking his forefinger. “Mr. Malamud is all alone in the world. His children, his family, everyone went before him. It’s a curse I don’t wish on no one.”

Do these people deserve my money? Since when does cash drift gently from leafy poplars? Even my pastry was a momentary weakness. As these uncharitable thoughts flash through my system, I suddenly recall my mallards . . .

“Mummy. We love you and we’re trying to understand what you want. Once again, arrangements have been made for you to go back to England. But we don’t think that’s what you want . . .”

We were very upset. Our mother had reserved that plot at the time of our father’s death, and had constantly reminded us that this was where she wanted to be buried—no matter where she was when she died. We felt terrible. We had failed her. But what could we do—it was out of our hands...

The fibers of living are inevitably spun of truth and lies, generosity and greed, sharing and possessing, love and hate, joy and despair, dignity and shame, courage and fear, humility and ego, desire and denial, clarity and confusion...

It is the timeless question. Is the glass half full, or is it just half empty. Do the bad times define a person, or just how we we handle them?

Tzemach has transformed us all. Our firstborn son just became a father. That upgrades us, his parents, into grandparents, our children into uncles and aunt, my siblings into great uncles and great aunt, my parents into great grandparents...

My four-year-old son, not to be outdone, offered to collect stuffed animals at his nursery school. Soon, the animals were arriving at all hours and without notice. With each delivery, my daughter beamed...

People can organize their budgets any way they want, but I personally ascribe to the accounting theory that a penny saved is a penny earned. Obviously a return counts as profit, but so does a purchase never made.

A woman jumped out of her car into the rain and snow. The wind attacked her hair mercilessly. "Do you need help?" She yelled. "YES," I shrieked back...