Family Parshah
Living with the Parshah: Different But Joined

It was a long and dreary drive. The family had been visiting an uncle who lived in a distant part of London and, somehow, it was taking a long time to get back home. It was also pouring rain and they could hardly see through the car windows. Daddy drove grimly, occasionally muttering a few words to Mummy who sat next to him.

"When are we getting home?" asked Danny for the twentieth time, sitting in the back.

"Let's play 'I Spy,'" said his older sister Miriam.

"OK," said Danny. "I spy with my little eye something beginning with R."

"Rain" said Miriam.

"Right!" said Danny. "Your turn."

"I spy with my little eye something beginning with M."

Danny thought for a while. Then he said: "Miriam."

"No." said his sister. "Actually it's not something I can see here, but in my mind's eye. It's in the Parsha."

"That's cheating!" said Danny.

"Let's say that's the rule of the game," said Miriam, persuasively.

"Ok," said Danny, giving in. "Menorah."

"That's right!" said his sister. "Well done."

"I don't think the Parsha tells us about the Menorah," said Danny. "That was in last week's Parsha."

"It does, at the beginning, it says that there should be pure olive oil for lighting the Menorah."

"That's right," said their mother joining in from the front of the car. "It mentions lighting the lights of the Menorah at the beginning of the Parsha and at the end."

"So, Danny, what can you see when you look at the Menorah?" asked their father.

"It's made of gold, with seven branches. The Cohen would light the lamps every evening, and the lights would shine brightly until morning." "You know," said Miriam, "my teacher said the Jewish people are like the Menorah. There are seven lamps all shining, and there are different kinds of people. Like some are always kind and gentle, while others are more strict. Some always want to win, and others are very humble, and so on. But they are all joined together, like the seven branches of the golden Menorah."

"Different but joined together," said Danny. "That's good."

"And some people have got home at last, thank G-d," said their father.

"Thank you for driving us in this terrible rain," said their mother. "And thank you, Miriam and Danny, for making the drive interesting with the light of the Menorah."

As they trooped quickly into the house, hurrying through the rain, Danny said again, with a smile: "different, but joined together. That's good!"