Down on Their Luck

We are brought up to always think of those less fortunate than ourselves. We are taught that giving tsedaka (charity) should be a natural and ongoing part of our daily lives.

Since moving to Israel I have been surprised by how many people look to benefit from this mindset. I have never had so many strangers arrive at my door, presenting me with pages of neatly displayed endorsement letters from rabbis, requesting their share of the contents of my purse.

It is hard to turn them away; they all have a sob story and have fallen upon hard times. They all look a little ‘weather beaten’ by life. They have ill family members and need help to fund their treatment; they are unable to work due to illness/accident and need help to feed their families… I hate to turn people away. I always think, ‘What a terrible story; what would I do if I was in that position?’

I think maybe that I am starting to become a little Israeli now. I am starting to harden a little. I am beginning to think that, if I was in that position, would I go door to door expecting someone to fund my misfortune?

Tonight I gave someone some money. It was not a lot but it was not a little either. I was a little shocked and upset when he told me that it was not enough, he needed more. I told him that if everyone gave what I did then he would be fine. I closed the door and wondered how I could feel deflated after giving tsedeka.

It is a shame to doubt the authenticity or motivation of some of these people. Certainly if I were (G-d forbid) in any of their situations, and if I did choose to go door to door; I cannot see any circumstance where I would not gratefully receive any money that came my way.

I think from now on 100% of my tsedaka goes through my rabbi or to people I know. I have had enough of being made to feel guilty when trying to do good.

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

An Extra Packet of Pretzels

It’s strange how things work out. Just before Shabbat I was in the supermarket getting a few last minute bits and pieces. I was at the till when my neighbor said hello and mentioned that the pretzels in my basket were on offer – two for a cheaper price. I said I only wanted one packet but noticed she had a packet in her trolley too. I reached over and put her packet through the checkout so that we made the most of the offer. There followed the charade of her trying to throw a few shekels to me and me refusing. Finally she said that she was going to get a second packet as she had decided she wanted two anyway! In the end she bought another two and I kept my two and we laughed about all the confusion. I didn’t think too much more about the incident.

We had friends from the UK staying this Shabbat and the Rabbi had agreed with my husband that it would be nice to have a kiddish after shul. However, during the week my husband didn’t think to remind the Rabbi, and the Rabbi, who had a particularly busy week, unfortunately forgot.

When my husband got to shul he noticed the fridge was bare but also saw that a few extra people had come to shul, expecting a kiddish. He dispatched my son home to me to see what could be done. I rustled together all sorts of nibbly bits from my cupboards… including the extra packet of pretzels!

It’s a funny old world!

Sharona B
www.judaicamosaica.com

A sweltering Shavuot

It’s a good thing that we eat ice cream on Shavuot. The day commenced with a bright, scorching sun, accompanied by a hot, dry breeze which combined to make an uncomfortable, heavy heat. It was the kind of heat that makes you aware of the weight of your body; that gives you the sensation of dragging your heavy bones along, hauling your body one step at a time towards your destination.

The walk to shul was exhausting. Although there is a shul just a few minutes from our house, we attend one which is twenty minutes away. With the buggy to push and the blazing sun above us, we made slow progress. We finally arrived red-cheeked and puffed out but instantaneously delirious as we felt the air conditioning sooth away our discomfort.

We fulfilled the obligation to listen to the Book of Ruth and the Ten Commandments and then retreated back home beneath the unrelenting rays of the midday sun.

I was not brought up in a religious environment and when I learn very simple things that are almost insignificant to others more learned than me, I get quite excited.

This Shavuot I looked into why we eat dairy foods. There were lots of reasons from all sorts of sources. The most commonly cited one relates to the Torah introducing the idea of kashrut and therefore there being a delay to prepare meat, utensils etc. in the appropriate manner; necessitating a milchig meal. However, the fact that impressed me the most was finding out about the numerical value for the word ‘chalav’ (milk). When the value of each letter is added up it equals 40. Moses spent 40 days on Mount Sinai receiving the Torah and when he came down it was ‘chalavy’ food that was consumed.

We certainly enjoyed our Shavuot food this year - particularly the ice cream.

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

A boy needs a bike

I bought an old, second had bike recently. Only one brake works and the handlebars don’t quite lengthen to the correct height; it is a little rickety but it does the job. After I got it home it occurred to me that I hadn’t ridden a bike for nearly 30 years. We often use the parallel of riding a bike to describe how we never forget certain skills. I was now about to find out how true the old adage was!

It was a strange feeling to be cycling again after so long. As I coasted down hills I was reminded of distant childhood memories; the thrill and the freedom of speeding down slopes. I felt invigorated as I continued my journey.. that is, until those downward hills reversed into uphill slopes. I puffed up and panted, disappointed with myself at my wretched efforts to scale even relatively gentle slopes. Some hills proved too much of a challenge and I had to dismount and walk up them. As I did so my legs wobbled and ached from the effort. My breathing was labored and quick as my body protested about the stamina required of it to cope with my new pursuit.

I went out a couple of days later and was pleased that I fared a little better. It still proved difficult to cope with the hills but I did manage to stay on the bike for the entire journey, even though anyone seeing me struggle pathetically up those hills would probably have taken pity on me and offered to give me a push. I am hoping to build up my strength and am determined to get to the point where I don’t arrive home gasping for water and needing to sit down to catch my breath. I never realized how unfit I was. We don’t have a car and I walk everywhere so I am by no means new to regular exercise. But the bike; well, I have to admit it, the bike very nearly beat me. Not quite though, and if nothing else, I am a very determined person and I will persevere.

We also got my son’s bike repaired after months of it being out of action. He was itching to get back onto it again and as soon as the last nut was tightened he jumped onto the seat and sped off for a ride around the block. He came back excited and happy. I am of the opinion that boys really only need 3 things in life to keep them amused; a ball, a bike and a box of marbles; everything else is just superfluous.

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

Ants Invasion

The ants are out! Israeli bugs are a world apart from those we see in the UK. British bugs are rather puny in comparison. The ants here are big, determined and difficult to deter.

This morning I saw a few of them on my worktop so I swept them into the sink and put the tap on. I was surprised to find them relatively water resistant. They kept on struggling against the tide, so much so that rather than a swift, insignificant swill down the sink, I started to feel bad about killing these little creatures who were hanging on so dearly for their lives. I was in for another surprise when I tried to remove one; it flew away! So, the fight is on for the hygiene of my kitchen; it's me, all tooled up with a range of deterrents, against Israel’s finest giant, airborne, water resistant ants – let battle commence!

As if the invasion of the ants wasn’t bad enough, my week was to get even worse. The baby woke up spotty and itchy… just a week before her birthday she has come down with Chicken Pox. Tonight I duly bathed her then daubed calamine lotion over every spot. She looks like she’s had an accident with a pot of white paint. Well I guess the birthday pictures will be memorable if nothing else!

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

A Glowing Lag B'Omer

My son is one of those boys who loves dirt. He goes out clean and returns full of stains and interesting aromas. He always has bruised legs, an untucked shirt and disheveled hair. I send him out perfectly clean but this is how he always returns. Can you imagine how much fun Lag B’Omer is to a boy like him? The lure of the light and smell of a bonfire?

The excitement grew over the last few days, with the collection of sticks, branches and all things wooden, which were duly deposited on the site of the bonfire. On the night of Lag B’Omer he went over to some friends who had a bonfire by their house. He came back at various points during the evening, each time a little blacker but happier. They had been throwing sticks in the bonfire, toasting marshmellows and enjoying the heat, smoke and excitement of the experience

My daughter was celebrating with some of her friends. Both came home smelling like bonfires and were dispatched to the shower immediately.

During the evening, with the baby safely tucked up in bed, I went out to the bottom of the garden and looked down the hill. I was greeted by the site of sporadic orange glows. I breathed in the sweet, night air, tinged with the aroma of fire. Lag B’Omer in Israel feels like a true celebration and has certainly ingrained lasting, happy memories for my children.

This week the baby, now nearly one, has been practicing all her new tricks. She has recently started to walk a little. When she stands up now and takes a few steps, she immediately claps herself, obviously very proud of her newest achievement. Unfortunately as soon as she does this she looses her balance and slumps to the ground. She has also started to play ‘peekaboo’ with my hat and play her little xylophone. It is a lovely age.

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com